What It Takes to Rise
by DJNS
Summary: A story inspired by Spike's miniseries Tut. A closer look at the developing relationship between Pharaoh Tutankhamun and the common girl who saved his life and how he comes into his own as pharaoh of Egypt.
1. Prologue

**A/N: So, I haven't written fanfiction in a long, long, long time. But recently I saw the Tut mini-series on Spike and Avan Jogia's portrayal of Pharaoh Tutankhamun and Kylie Bunbury's portrayal of Suhad will not leave me alone. If you haven't seen the mini-series, see it! If you've never exposed yourself to the awesome chemistry between Jogia and Bunbury, do it! Those two are magic together. (Do not read further if you don't wish to be spoiled.)**

 **As for this story, it basically picks up after Suhad rescues Tut from the riverbed. I don't change the events in the series so much as I add to them and explore the burgeoning friendship/relationship between Tut and Suhad more fully. Some dialogue is straight from the mini-series but made to fit with my vision for this story. If you've seen the mini-series then you know that this won't end happily but, like I said, there is something about these characters that won't leave me alone. I had to write this story.**

* * *

 **Prologue**

The arduous journey back into the land of the living was painstakingly slow and fraught with agonizing bursts of pain. He likened the experience to swimming through thick, hot, corrosive mud in order to reach a distant shore. The effort was fatiguing and grueling and quite nearly overwhelming. That was Pharaoh Tutankhamun's first conscious thought as he ascended back towards wakefulness. The fight to live was an incredible struggle for him and yet, even in his weakened state he recognized that it was a battle he _had_ to win.

His second thought, beyond mere self-preservation, was that he felt oddly heavy…his limbs, his head, his eyelids, even the measured breaths that escaped his beleaguered lungs felt hot and weighted and burdensome. Each one he took was a feat of strength. His own beating heart was like a punishing fist thumping in his chest...one...two...three... Conversely, however, it was also the indisputable reminder that he was alive, a gift of favor from the gods, and for that the young ruler was grateful.

Still, he recognized that he would have a long road ahead of him even without truly understanding the full extent of what had happened to him and why he was in such dire circumstances. There was no denying in that naked moment of pure vulnerability and feebleness that he felt very little like the invincible god his people believed him to be. No, he felt quite mortal. In truth, he did not even feel as if he were a man in those moments, but instead every bit the frightened, uncertain and heartbroken boy of nineteen that he was.

He remembered he had been wounded in battle. Those final bloody moments played out behind his eyelids as he clawed his way through the gossamer tendrils of exhaustion that ensnared him. He could hear to sleek hiss of arrows as they zipped past his head with accurate precision, the grotesque thud they made when they found their mark deep in a man's flesh, the bloody gurgling of that same man's dying breath. And there were the smells too…the earthy aroma of grime mixed with sweat, the heavy, metallic scent of blood in the dry desert air, all to be permeated by the ever present malodorous stench of death.

But far beyond the sounds and smells of the battlefield, there was something more that Tutankhamun recalled from that day with far more clarity. It was the sight of his trusted general Horemheb and his best friend Ka, a man who had practically been a _brother_ to him all of his life, standing over him and _watching_ as his lifeblood leaked from his body and then…simply walking away. They both did so, without care or consequence, and neither looked back.

Thinking on it now, he imagined their decision could not have been a whim. No. It was designed. Some planning had gone into that one pivotal decision that had changed _everything_. It was wanted. _His death_ had been _wanted_ by them, those who were closest to him, those who should have protected him, those whom he had trusted…whom he had _loved_. What a farce that had been! Tut's only regret now was that it had taken that betrayal, possibly one of the lowest points that he had ever experienced in nineteen years, second only to his father's outright rejection of him, for him to come to the realization that he could trust no one.

Pharaoh Nesubity Nebkhepepure Tutankhamun Hekaiunushema would never forget that day. He was absolutely sure that when he _did_ finally cross over into the afterlife to be greeted by Osiris that would be the vision he took with him. It would haunt him for eternity.

However, that day would _not_ be today, Tut fiercely determined in his heart. There would be no dying on this day. Today, that would image not follow him into the afterlife but instead would serve as the impetus to impel him back to health, to Thebes and his kingdom and rightful place as Pharaoh of all Egypt. He would see General Horemheb and Ka pay for their betrayal of him, as well as anyone who had dared to conspire with them. Now, both literally and figuratively, the young ruler's eyes were being opened. Yes, he could see their true nature now, all those who had claimed to be his confidantes and friends, and Tutankhamun was determined never to be blind to anyone's trickery again.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

Though it seemed to take him an eternity, Pharaoh Tutankhamun, almost as if he were channeling the combined will of his long dead ancestors, at last found the wherewithal to open his eyes and allow the weak sunlight of a new day to filter in. He immediately recoiled from the light with a muted groan, hazily bringing his hand to his brow in an uncoordinated attempt to block out the brightness. Once his bleary eyes began to adjust, little by little, he became aware of his surroundings.

The first thing Tutankhamun realized was that he was unclothed. Not completely...he still wore the swathe of linen across his groin that protected his dignity but that was all. He lay fully exposed on a bed of crumpled linen and straw, propped slightly by a small boulder, which was cushioned by more linen and straw, at his back.

While finding himself unclothed in a strange place was disconcerting, it was his lack of clothing that allowed the young pharaoh to quickly assess the full extent of his injuries. The wound at his right flank was closed now but still very tender and inflamed. The flesh at its border was a mottled hue of purple and black. It looked and _felt_ awful. In addition, every muscle in his body felt tight and stiff and even the slightest movement caused them to burn terribly.

He knew that he was in a vulnerable position and, upon recognizing that fact, he instantly began darting his eyes about in the frantic need to determine his location and any course for escape. There wasn't much he could ascertain at first beyond the fact that he was _not_ in the enemy's stronghold as he first feared. Instead, he was situated in a small, one room hut which, while filled with sunlight, was quite rudimentary in its meager furnishings. Beyond a few hewn stones used for makeshift seating, a work table, a weaving station and the pallet upon which he lay, there was very little there.

It was a far cry from the grand opulence he had grown used to behind the palace walls and yet, in spite of that unfamiliarity and simplicity, Tutankhamun did not feel the need to panic in that particular moment. Oddly enough, he was pervaded with a momentarily sense of peace, the innate feeling that he was safe and protected. That relief was short-lived.

His logical mind, however, recognized what folly such a notion likely was and that inexplicable feeling died as quickly as it bloomed. Whether or not he had been taken by the enemy, he was still very much separated from his kingdom and in an unfamiliar place while at a physical disadvantage to protect himself. Alarm inundated him once more. He swung his tired gaze about the confines of the hut, searching for escape when he suddenly remembered how he had come to be there.

The sight of her literally knocked the breath from his lungs.

She was standing less than six feet away from him, as arrestingly beautiful as she had been the first time he had seen her that day in the beer hall. She was grinding some unknown substance with mortar and pestle but, upon realizing he was awake, she stopped instantly and regarded him with surprised eyes. A small smile of relieved pleasure tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," she greeted softly.

Immediately, fragmented recollections of the girl and their first meeting filtered through Tutankhamun's mind as he blearily pieced together the last lucid memory he'd had before slipping into fevered delirium. He could so clearly envision her striking face in mind's eye with its flawless, brown skin, perfectly sculpted cheekbones and full, supple lips as she hovered above him and worriedly sponged his brow. He could still hear her words echoing in his ears as he fell off into oblivion. "You'll be safe here. I promise you'll be safe." But what he remembered most were her eyes, those deep, fathomless dark eyes of hers that had looked down on him with pity and compassion as he lay dying in the riverbed.

He shifted towards her, with what intention he did not know, but just that small bit of movement produced a sharp pain that radiated hotly throughout his right flank. Before his reactive groan had even escaped his throat entirely, she was at his side, urging him back down against his makeshift pallet with gentle hands. "Rest now," she murmured, "You must not struggle. You'll reopen your wound!"

Tutankhamun squinted up at her and swallowed, surprised by how dry and coarse his throat felt, how much effort it required for him simply to speak. "W-Where...?" He darted out his tongue to moisten his cracked lips, "Where am I?"

"In Amurru," she answered him, "Do you not remember? You fell here in battle weeks ago."

He recoiled at that revelation. "Weeks?"

"You've been very ill."

"No. I can't..." he rasped, "I can't be in your village. They will be looking for me."

She deftly batted away his hands as they grasped at the ground in order to steady himself and stalled his weak attempts to roll into an upright position as she made a quick assessment of his wound. "Do not trouble yourself. We're not in the village. No one will find you here. Our crops are weeks from being tilled. You will be safe."

He shook his head in denial of that, continuing on with his efforts to rouse himself. "You don't understand," he argued in exhausted gasps, "I cannot remain here. To do so would be inviting my death. I must leave."

"Why?" she questioned softly, "Why do those men want you dead? You're but a soldier."

Where nothing else she had done had managed to quell his movements, that one question stunned him into immobility. He collapsed back into his pallet with an exhausted sigh, briefly at a loss for words. Somehow, it had never crossed his mind that she might not know his true identity. Here she had been caring for him and tending his wounds weeks by her own word and she had no idea at all that she'd been saving the life of her Pharaoh. He was merely a stranger to whom she had shown extraordinary kindness. And, given all that he had experienced and recent mistrust he had gained for mankind, Tutankhamun wisely determined not to disavow her of that notion.

"Thebes," he evaded softly when he finally spoke again. Though it took considerable strength, he roll upright and brace himself. "I must return to Thebes immediately. Where are my clothes? I will leave at once."

Unfortunately, his caregiver proved to be just as determined as he and, yet again began tenderly, but insistently nudging him back against the pallet. "You will rest," she informed him with resolute authority, "You will leave only after you have healed."

He leveled her with a steely gaze, one that had quelled more than a few palace officials. "I will do as I intend."

To his everlasting surprise, she did not buckle under his edict as he expected but instead met his gaze directly with flinty fortitude of her own. "You will do as _I_ say. Now lie back and rest before you reopen your wound and ruin all my hard work!"

The two sat locked in a silent battle of wills for a few fleeting seconds before Tutankhamun's own exhaustion finally impelled him into obedience and he crumpled back into his makeshift bed. "Very well," he conceded with a tired sigh, "I haven't the strength to argue with your obstinate will, woman."

She offered him a small grin of triumph before hopping up to retrieve whatever concoction he had spied her grinding at the table earlier. In the midst of gathering her supplies, she waved the small, canvas bag at him and favored him with a knowing look. "These seeds, by the way..." she murmured thoughtfully, "I know very well that they came from you."

He closed his eyes, his lips quirking in a weary smile. "Do you?"

Accepting his unspoken challenge, the girl placed her hands on rounded hips and regarded him with a single, raised brow. "Yes, I do. Why did you not simply bring them in person so that I might have had the chance to thank you properly?"

He angled a brief glance at her and grunted a humorless chuckle. "I suppose the war is an inconvenience for some things."

His subdued response and the underlying sadness she detected in his words caused her teasing smile to fade. "Thank you...truly," she murmured with quiet sincerity, "You need not to have made any special effort on my part. Why did you?"

Tutankhamun looked at her then, his dark gaze hooded but unwavering. "Perhaps I discerned in you something that requires special effort."

She grunted at that, stamping down the fluttering leap that awakened in her belly with his feeble attempt at flirtation. "I see that I've been nursing a flatterer all this time. You have quite a smooth tongue for someone who only just managed to fight their way back from the brink of death."

Surprisingly, he choked a small laugh at her teasing reprimand. "What can I say? I do have my priorities."

As she came forward to settle at his side again, Tutankhamun, struggled to get himself into a ready position but, this time, to assist her in whatever endeavor she had planned for him. He watched with curious eyes as she poured scented oil into her palm and stiffened only slightly when she tenderly began massaging his battered neck and shoulders. It was the first time in his entire life that he could remember anyone touching him so intimately without his explicit or implicit permission. And yet, this girl did so without guile and without any design other than to ease his pain. The realization left him discomfited, an emotion to which he was wholly unaccustomed.

"What are you doing?" he whispered, fighting to keep his eyes open as her fingers fluttered expertly back and forth over his skin in kneading circles.

"It's to soothe your mind and your body," she explained, "It will help you heal faster."

As she continued her ministrations, gentle and methodical in her manner, Tutankhamun gradually began to relax under her touch. "Thank you," he uttered as the last of the tension eased from his body, "It feels...nice...what you are doing."

"My grandmother taught me this technique when I was a child. The body cannot heal properly while under stress."

"You speak as if you know a great deal about this, do you?"

She offered him a cheeky smile. "I know a great deal about many things."

"Now who is being immodest?" he teased.

Her answering chuckle mingled with his. "I prefer to think of it as a proper confidence in my abilities."

"As well you should," Tutankhamun murmured in approval as her fingers continued to deftly work out the knots and kinks of his battle roughened body, "You are good at what you do."

She regarded him with a profound stare. "Do not be mistaken. I don't do this for just anyone."

A few beats of pregnant silence passed between them before Tutankhamun managed to look away from her. He cleared his throat discreetly and then asked, "Exactly how badly was I injured?"

"You took quite a blow on the battlefield," she said, "There was a deep, gaping wound at your flank that had already begun to fester when I found you. Your entire body was practically covered with bruises and gashes. After I brought you here, you lay delirious with fever for days, restless and fitful, muttering in your sleep. I knew your will to live was strong but there were some nights when I was not so sure you would draw breath in the morning."

"And you stayed with me?" The surprise, gratitude and confusion he felt over her actions was palpable in his tone.

"Of course," she whispered, "You were determined not to die and I was determined not to let you."

Tutankhamun started to grunt a laugh over that statement when the full import of what she had just revealed to him dawned fully. "You said I spoke to you while I was ill," he considered with deliberate quiet, "Did I say anything of consequence?"

"No...not particularly. Only the fevered ramblings of a very sick man." She met his gaze with sad eyes. "You did call out for your father...more than once." She wasn't sure what reaction she expected from him upon that disclosure but she was altogether surprised when he shrugged out from beneath her touch, his shoulders and back going completely rigid. "Do you wish to contact him?" she wondered tentatively, "Let him know that you live and that you are healthy?"

"My father is dead," Tutankhamun declared flatly, "And frankly, were he not, my good health or lack of it would be of little concern to him."

Uncertain as to how she should respond to such a blunt reply, the girl sputtered, "I'm...I am sorry. I did not intend to stir troubling memories for you."

Tutankhamun flicked her with a softened look, regretful of his harsh tone. "I'm not. Believe me, my life was all the better without his poisonous influence. I haven't the faintest notion for why I would have called out for him."

Though it was abundantly clear she wanted to question him further on the subject, the girl merely nodded in concession and silently resumed her healing massage, sensing his desire to end the line of conversation altogether. "Of course. I apologize again if I was improper."

Hoping to restore the effortless camaraderie between them that had existed before her mention of his father, Tutankhamun placed his hand briefly atop of hers and momentarily stilled her ministrations, drawing her deeply expressive eyes to his. "There is no impropriety. You saved my life. You may ask me whatever you wish and I will grant it to you."

She lifted her brows in challenge. "Whatever I wish? Are you certain you want to make such a promise?"

"Indeed. Ask," he invited in the softest of tones.

"Your name," she said simply, "After all of this time, it would be nice to know your name."

Such a simple question with no real simple answer. Tutankhamun opened his mouth to grant her request, only to immediately snap it shut when he realized that he did not have an answer to give her...at least, not one that he was ready to divulge. The girl chuckled at his obvious quandary, mistaking the reason for his hesitation. "You do remember that you have one, do you not?"

"Of course. It is...Khaten," he said finally, deciding on a whim to give her a shortened version of the name he'd held as prince of Egypt, "My name is Khaten."

She smiled at him. "Khaten." His name escaped her lips in measured syllables, her efforts causing a peculiar sensation to quiver down his spine. She said his name as if she were committing it to some place deep within her, rolled it on her tongue again and again. With each utterance, Tutankhamun shivered inwardly. "Khaten. I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Suhad."

Sleek, jet colored brows knit in a stunned frown. "Suhad? That is not an Egyptian name."

Now it was her turn to stiffen and become defensive. Aware that she was delving into dangerous territory given the conflict unfolding on Egypt's borders, Suhad was careful and measured in her response, but truthful and unafraid. "No. It is not an Egyptian name. It's Mitanni."

While she prepared herself for his condemnation and perhaps even his outright scorn what Suhad received instead was merely his curiosity. "But you are not Mitanni. Why would you have a Mitanni name?"

"The Mitanni were my grandmother's people," Suhad explained, resuming her massage in an effort to avoid his questioning eyes, "She was raped by an Egyptian invader and bore my mother. So, you see, in the eyes of the Pharaoh, I wouldn't be considered a true Egyptian either, therefore, it is of little consequence that I bear a Mitanni name."

Tutankhamun shook his head in denial of that. "That is not true. You _are_ an Egyptian as long as you are loyal to the Pharaoh."

Suhad paused briefly in her work to favor him with a trenchant stare. "Shall I be completely honest with you, Khaten?"

"You haven't hesitated before now," he teased with a smirk.

She briefly returned his smile before her expression sobered. "Here in Amurru, the Pharaoh is very far removed from us. My people endure struggles that he could not possibly fathom and would likely not trouble himself to solve were he aware. We might very well not exist at all as far as he is concerned. Therefore, my allegiance is to my family and to my people here. _They_ are the ones who require my loyalty. A Pharaoh, who sits on his throne far across the desert, is of no more consequence to me than I am to him."

He choked back a stunned laugh at her forthrightness. "Careful with such talk, Suhad," he warned playfully, "The Pharaoh might have your tongue cut out for that."

Suhad emitted a throaty laugh, not at all concerned by the idea of incurring her nebulous Pharaoh's wrath. "From what I've heard of our Pharaoh, Khaten, he wouldn't know what to do with my tongue if he had it."

The suggestive nature of her statement hit Suhad just as she met his intensely dark stare. He regarded her, unsmiling and intent, his eyes leaping with something that caused her breath to become lodged solidly in her chest. She could not tell if he was offended by her bold words...or _challenged_ by them and it was the latter prospect that truly left her unsettled. At the moment, she became acutely aware of her fingers coasting across his bare skin. Suhad immediately dropped her hands and scooted away from him.

"I'll fetch you some water," she said, quickly rolling away from him as if he were made of fire, "You've barely had anything to drink in days."

Acutely aware of the sudden intensity crackling between them, Tutankhamun watched speculatively as she gathered the water and voiced aloud the question that was most pertinent on his mind right then. "What have you heard of the Pharaoh, Suhad, that incurs such disdain in you for him?" he asked after she had returned to his side with a clay water vessel. He took several thirsty draughts while she answered.

"It's not disdain that I have for him," she said with a light shrug, "He is a stranger to me. I have no idea who he is or what he stands for or what he believes. And for that reason, I'm uncertain as to the efficacy of his rule. I've heard that he is but a boy, small, crippled, weak and controlled by his royal advisors. He is no king, merely a puppet for those who would control his kingdom. How can I hold any expectation that he will change anything in _my_ life for the better when he lacks the power to direct his own?"

The question, while posed rhetorically, was valid and one Tutankhamun yearned to answer. Still, his jaw tightened with anger and shame to hear it voiced aloud. He was embittered by the reality that this was the perception his people obviously held for him, this version of a helpless, ignorant boy controlled by his court. And though this wasn't the first time he'd heard such things, his military commander Lagus being the first to open his eyes, somehow hearing the words from Suhad's lips caused a sharper sting. Tutankhamun was further angered because he recognized the measure of truth to those beliefs. He _had_ been a puppet. He _had_ lost control of his kingdom. In truth, there was every likelihood that he had never _had_ control in the first place.

"You are right in all you have said, Suhad," he acknowledged after a stretch of tenuous silence, "Our Pharaoh is young and naive and for far too long he has allowed others to act as the directing forces in his kingdom rather than assuming the responsibility for himself. But that will soon change."

The fierce certainty in his tone sparked Suhad's interest. She regarded him with a pensive frown. "You speak as if you somehow have the Pharaoh's ear, Khaten. Do you? Have you met the Pharaoh before?"

He offered her a tentative smile. "In truth, he is as much an enigma to me as he is to you, Suhad," Tutankhamun replied vaguely, "But I am _coming_ to know him...a little more with each hour that passes."

Predictably, Suhad had no idea what to make of his cryptic response but, as she was quickly coming to learn, there was little point in questioning him further. So, rather than pressing the issue, she silently resumed her ministrations and tended to his wound. What she did not understand was that Tutankhamun's reluctance to speak further had less to do with his desire to keep parts of himself secret from her and more to do with his dawning realization of the weighty task he now had set before him.


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

"I'm glad to see your appetite is returning. You were beginning to waste away."

At her laughing observation, Tutankhamun took a deep breath, his first since the moment she had simple meal of bread and roasted meat before him. Belatedly realizing that he had been stuffing his mouth with food so briskly that he had barely even _chewed_ in between bites, Tutankhamun quickly swallowed his latest mouthful and discreetly wiped his grease covered fingers and mouth with the corner of the blanket beneath him. Afterwards, he regarded Suhad with a sheepish smile. "My apologies, Suhad. I suppose I was hungrier than I realized. I did not even thank you for preparing the meal."

"Do not apologize," she encouraged with a fond smile, "and no thanks is required. Eat as much as you like. You need the food in order to regain your strength."

"You're right," he agreed, "The sooner I recover fully, the sooner I can return to Thebes."

A mere two days had passed since the young pharaoh had completely recovered from his fevered state and already he was beginning to grow restless. With each hour that passed Tutankhamun grew more and more agitated, especially when he imagined the treacherous acts that must be unfolding in his kingdom. By now, General Horemheb and Ka had to have returned to Thebes with news of his untimely death. His kingdom was likely in a state of flux with different factions of his council all scrambling to seize power in his absence.

He thought of his sister and queen, Ankhesenamun, with mixed emotions. In this time of uncertainty, she would be vulnerable and grieving for him, the perfect victim for those who would prey on her royal position. There was the part of Tutankhamun that was sick with worry at the thought of his sister being used as a pawn in General Horemheb and Ka's games. But then there was also the part of him that worried that _he_ had been _her_ pawn. Exactly how deeply had the treachery within his house infiltrated? Tutankhamun vacillated incessantly between anxiety as to whether or not Ankhesenamun was safe in the nest of vipers that was undoubtedly overrunning his palace or if it was possible that his sister, his most trusted confidante in all his life, had been a part of the plot to dispatch him and usurp his kingdom.

It was a bitter assumption to entertain. He didn't want to believe that Ankhesenamun could be capable of such betrayal. From the time of their childhood onward he and his sister had been each other's greatest allies. When they'd had no one else, they had always had one another. They had conceived and lost two children together. They were bound by a mutual duty to their ancestors to produce a royal heir in the father Akhenaten's name. Yet, Tutankhamun could not ignore the knowledge that his sister had been in love with Ka for as long as he could recall and that her feelings were equally reciprocated by his former friend. Could it be possible that their encompassing desire to be together had finally compelled them to betray their pharaoh?

That question was one of many that plagued Tutankhamun, not only during his waking hours, but during sleep as well. He was besieged with nightmares of Ankhesenamun murdering him as he slumbered or his vizier, generals and the high priest all angling to remove him from the throne. Now that Ka, a man he had loved like a brother, had deceived him Tutankhamun recognized that anyone in his close inner circle could be capable of the same duplicity.

Consequently, he slept very little at night and was left with constant, disquieting thoughts during the day. At times he felt despondent, lost and utterly defeated. Most of all, however, he was exhausted, both physically and mentally. He couldn't remember ever in his life feeling as isolated and alone as he did presently. Thankfully, the fleeting moments of peace he did have were most consistently found in Suhad's presence.

The impact she had made on him and in such a short period of time surprised him greatly. Despite being of common birth and being what his royal court would have considered "ordinary and unsophisticated," Tutankhamun was coming to understand that there was absolutely _nothing_ common about Suhad. In fact, she wasn't anything short of _extraordinary_ , unlike any woman he had ever known. Yes, she was beautiful and he was attracted to her but it wasn't merely her physical appearance that drew him. Suhad was opinionated, independent, frustratingly stubborn and had an admirably strong will.

She challenged him, fascinated him, listened to him intently and dispensed valuable wisdom to him that was both welcome and unwelcome. The more he listened to her speak, the more deeply he came to value her insight and intelligence. While he didn't always agree with her perception of the world or the gods he could not deny that she had powerful convictions and she was fiercely devoted to them. She believed in herself and, for some reason inconceivable to Tutankhamun, she believed in him as well. He could think of no other explanation for why she would risk her safety and possibly even her life in order to ensure his.

And never once had she asked anything of him. She cared for him simply because it had been the right thing to do. Suhad was completely without guile. Her sole motive was to help him heal and keep him safe. She made him smile. She made him laugh. But mostly, she made him _think_...about his people's perception of him, about the type of pharaoh he wished to be, about the legacy he wanted to leave behind after he finally passed on into the afterlife.

Tutankhamun recognized now that his duty to Egypt went far beyond producing an heir that would continue his royal bloodline. His people needed so much _more_ than that. They needed to know who he was and for what he stood. They needed to know that he truly was _their_ Pharaoh and that could never happen as long as he continued to shield himself behind the palace walls. He was only just beginning to understand that fact prior to the Mitanni conflict. Being a presence in battle and having a willing spirit to shed his own blood on behalf of his nation was merely the start. He had to show them that he was willing to sacrifice anything and _everything_ for their greater good...even himself.

Lost in his unspoken thoughts, Tutankhamun had no idea how thoroughly his mind had wandered in those few minutes until he felt Suhad's gentle nudge at his uninjured side. He favored her with a startled smile. "You're doing it again," she prompted him with a soft smile.

"What is that?"

"Getting lost in your thoughts...and it's beginning to happen more often of late."

His smile was gradually replaced with a guarded expression. "Has it?"

The shift in his demeanor, while subtle, was instantly obvious to Suhad. "What is it that troubles you so, Khaten?" she wondered aloud, "Is it because of the soldiers that continue to search the villages of Amurru looking for a palace spy?"

Tutankhamun pinned her with a sharp glance. "Is that what they are saying?"

She nodded and quickly countered his question with a question of her own. "Is that what you are? Is that why they seek your death?"

He scoffed at the question, his lips pursing in an embittered smirk. "I am no spy, Suhad, but I am, most certainly, a fool."

"A fool? Why do you believe yourself a fool?"

Tutankhamun responded with a dismissive shake of his head. "It's of no consequence. You wouldn't understand."

"How can I when you've yet to give me an opportunity to do so?" she queried pointedly, "I should like to ease your burden if I could."

"You cannot."

"How can you know for sure if you will not give me the chance?"

Tutankhamun nibbled at his lower lip pensively and Suhad could plainly see the internal war he waged against trusting her going on behind his beautifully expressive eyes. Finally, however, he shook his head. "It would be better for you to remain ignorant of the chaos surrounding me, Suhad," he murmured, "I don't wish to draw you into my misfortune."

"And if that is my choice?"

He responded with one word, resolute and implacable. "No."

Suhad emitted a low growl of aggravation. "So am I to pretend that I don't see you in pain day after day?" she demanded, "Have you any idea what level of frustration you raise in me? I hardly ever know what you mean or why you say the things you say or do the things you do!"

"How can I explain to you what I have yet to come to terms with myself?"

She jabbed her index finger into the center of his bare chest. "There! Exactly my point!" she volleyed back, "You always speak in such cryptic terms, Khaten! What does that even _mean_?"

Her mounting exasperation with him rolled off of her in waves and filled Tutankhamun with unexpected guilt. When he first made the decision to keep the truth from her he had been steadfast in his conviction to do so. But now, only two days later, he found himself wavering and reconsidering whether or not he _owed_ her the truth.

While he recognized that he was being unfair to her and that Suhad, at least, deserved to know what possible danger involvement with him would bring her, Tutankhamun knew that he could not divulge his true identity. There was too much at stake. To tell her the truth now would require a reserve of trust that he did not possess at the moment. At the moment, her motives for helping him were pure and genuine. Tutankhamun couldn't bear it such selfless actions became tainted by the revelation that he was Pharaoh. He was still in a state of self-preservation, unwilling and unable to face the possibility of being disappointed by yet another person in whom he had placed his trust.

So, instead of answering her directly, he evaded her question completely by pushing away his food bowl and scooting fully into an upright position. "It means, Suhad..." he said as he prepared himself to stand, "...that I have languished in my sick bed long enough and the time has come for me to get on my feet." When he realized that the task of shifting to his feet was easier said than done, he flicked Suhad with a helpless glance. "Could you lend a hand, please?"

At first, she crossed her arms in obstinate denial of her assistance, partly due to her belief that he was doing too much too soon and partly in irritation because he had so blatantly avoided providing her with an answer to her question. "Do you really think this is a good idea? You've only just begun to recover! You're not ready!"

He needed only to whisper her name and flutter his lushly lashed eyes full of boyish appeal for her to soften. He had quite a knack for testing the limits of her patience but when he smiled at her in that disarmingly innocent manner he had of smiling, Suhad had difficulty remaining cross with him. With his assumption of victory, Tutankhamun extended his hand towards her. "Please, my friend. Help me to do this."

"You are quite the manipulator, Khaten," she charged him in starchy tone even as she bent forward to fulfill his request for assistance, "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Not to my face," he chuckled.

She grunted in response, looping his arm across the back of her neck in order to steady him, careful not to jostle his body too much for fear of reopening the wound at his flank. Despite her ginger care, Tutankhamun still found himself gasping sharply as they shifted upright together and the tightened borders of his wound pulled. Suhad paused in their ascent, her forehead creased with worry.

"This isn't a good idea. I don't want to hurt you."

"I'll be fine," he panted through gritted teeth, "Help me stand completely, at least."

"You're in pain!"

"As I will be for some considerable time! How is that a valid argument for stopping?"

She made a face at him. "How is _that_ a valid argument for continuing this?"

"Whether I stand today or tomorrow, it must be done."

"Then let us opt for tomorrow."

He surveyed her with a beseeching look from beneath the fan of lush, dark eyelashes. "You agreed to help me," he reminded her softly, "I'm disappointed. I never took you for someone who would renege on their word."

Suhad expelled an exasperated huff, keenly aware that he was using guilt and cajolery as bait to bend him to her will. "I am attempting to talk reason into you! Khaten, you are not ready for this. You've been off of your feet for weeks! You have no strength in your legs! Besides that, the sun is already beginning to descend on the horizon. Where do you propose to go?"

He braced his body against her, making it abundantly clear that he intended to find his footing with or without her aid. "I don't know!" he retorted sharply, "But... _I am going to do this_. A walk to the entry way or around the perimeter, perhaps...I can't imagine what I have planned beyond standing on my own two feet! But I need to do something more than stare at the confines of these stone walls! _Please._ I will do this without you if I must but I would prefer to have your support."

Though she remained uncertain, Suhad set her jaw in reluctant compliance and held out her arm to him so that Tutankhamun could brace his body weight against her own. Then, as best she could with his entire body feeling practically like dead weight, she helped him struggle to his feet. Unfortunately, everything she had warned him about proved to be true.

The instant Tutankhamun made the attempt to bear weight on his flaccid legs, his knees wobbled and then buckled beneath him. Without warning, both he and Suhad went crashing back to the ground in an unceremonious heap. Tutankhamun groaned, both in mortification and frustration, a string of curses spilling from his lips over his failure. While he lay there trying to get his bearings, Suhad was already scrambling up onto her knees and was skimming her fingers over his body looking for any signs of injury.

He expected her to chastise him for not listening but instead she regarded him with an anxious frown. "You're not hurt, are you?"

Tutankhamun flung a forearm across his eyes. "Yes...my pride is devastated beyond measure," he uttered dramatically.

The panic that had started to bloom in Suhad's breast gave way to a stunned laugh instead. "I meant your wound! You're not bleeding again, are you?"

Tutankhamun angled a glance down at his flank. The borders of his healing scar had pulled and he was aching now, but he saw no evidence bleeding seeping through his bandage. "I think it's well."

Suhad wilted back against a nearby boulder in relief. "Good."

"So..." Tutankhamun panted, favoring her with a tired smile, "Shall we try that again?"

Ten minutes later, as Suhad carefully steadied him as he limped around the hut's outside perimeter, Tutankhamun began to seriously contemplate why he had been so insistent on taking a walk in the first place. He already felt as if he had been marching for miles, a fine sheen of sweat beading the expanse of his partially clothed body. Stubborn pride, however, prevented him from asking Suhad to rest though she could tell from his slowed gait and the small grunts he made with each step that he was gradually reaching his breaking point. Finally, she made the decision for them both and ended their brief sojourn by guiding him back into the hut.

"I wasn't ready to stop," he protested after she'd helped him situate himself upon his pallet.

"Liar. You were practically sagging with exhaustion and we both know it."

"Perhaps a little," he confessed in an under-breath, his eyes already beginning to droop with fatigue, "I feel as if I could sleep for a thousand years."

"I'll draw some water. A bath will help to soothe your muscles."

He listened to the quiet sloshing sounds she made as she gathered supplies for his bath. Though he had gained considerable strength in the past two days, Tutankhamun still continued to tire very quickly, even when executing simple tasks. Consequently, Suhad continued to assist him with grooming himself, even washing, taming and tying back his long, dark hair, something that he hadn't had much experience with doing on his own _before_ he was injured.

"You shouldn't push yourself, Khaten," she advised him from across the hut as she readied the wash basin, "You're likely to delay your recovery rather than hasten it."

"There is wisdom in what you say," he sighed in concession, "I won't deny it."

"And yet you will remain as stubborn as ever." Her words while pointed and tart were also laced with trembling concern.

His eyes fluttered open then and he met her anxious stare across the expanse separating them. "I'm trying your patience, aren't I?"

"No. You mistake my concern with aggravation. Do not forget that I have had firsthand knowledge of just how close you came to death. I had to watch you writhe in agony for days on end when there was little I could do to bring you comfort. It's not an experience I'm eager to relive."

He regarded her with dark eyes filled with remorse. "Forgive me, Suhad. I don't mean to give you the impression that I'm ungrateful for all you've done for me."

"You say that you are grateful and yet I know that you will continue to risk yourself."

"I have my reasons."

"And what reasons are those?"

"Suhad...have you ever known what it is to carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders?"

It would have been simple to dismiss the question as the disproportionate theatrical musings of a restless man but something compelled Suhad to consider the subject seriously. She shook her head slowly, quieted not by the question itself but the resounding vulnerability she detected behind it. "No. I cannot say that I have ever known that feeling." Suhad regarded him for a beat of silence before asking, "Is that how _you_ feel?"

He cast his eyes downward, drawing circles through the sand with his index finger, finding it strangely impossible to meet her avid stare in that instant. "I feel the weight of every decision I make every moment of every of day and there are times when I fear that, no matter what path I take, I will fail...as if that were my destiny...as if the gods themselves are willing it." He pursed his lips in a solemn smile. "Who knows? Perhaps _that_ is my destiny."

"I don't believe that. The gods have little to do with it. That is what the priests would have you believe so that you continue to pay tribute. The reality is...we are all the masters of our own destiny."

"That sounds very close to blasphemy, Suhad."

"Is it blasphemous or is it sound reason?" she argued, "Is it better to put faith in gods who would purposely torment you simply because they had the power to do so? Or would it be better to believe that we possess some measure of control over our own fates?"

"I suppose there is truth to that. I've always believed that fate is not what we are given. It is what we take for ourselves."

"Exactly," she replied, moving to his side with the water basin in hand, "It's true that we cannot control the events that unfold around us, whether for good or for bad, but we _can_ control whether or not we are discouraged by our hardships, whether we allow them to beat us into inaction. Failure can only come when you lack the will to succeed, Khaten."

"And if it is the gods' desire to break your will?"

"Do not allow them."

"It is not that simple, Suhad. I _must_ return to Thebes. Every day I do not compounds my failure to fulfill my duty."

"How can you say that you have failed in your duty? You were wounded in battle on the Pharaoh's behalf! You nearly died! Was your spilled blood not enough on behalf of Egypt...on behalf of your king?"

"You don't understand," he muttered.

"So you've said before and the reason I cannot understand remains unchanged. You make it impossible! I'm baffled as to why you feel that you owe a personal debt to the Pharaoh when you've already sacrificed so much!" she countered hoarsely, "I don't know the reason for the constant sadness I see in your eyes. I don't understand why you don't seem to believe that you _are_ good and honorable and worthy. I wonder who did such a disservice to you, Khaten, to make you believe that you are less than what you are."

Stunned, not only by her impassioned speech, but also the realization that she was nearly on the verge of tears, and for _him_ no less, Tutankhamun reached out to take hold of her hand. He gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. "Thank you," he whispered sincerely, "For everything you've done for me, Suhad. No one has ever spoken to me the way you have, not without an agenda. I could have never survived these past weeks without your care."

"What else could I have done?" she whispered in return, surreptitiously whisking away the tears that fell on her cheeks, "You were abandoned and helpless. I couldn't simply leave you out in the riverbed to die."

He reluctantly pulled his fingers from hers. "Perhaps that would have been the better option for you."

Suhad's went rigid with his response, clearly horrified by his words. "Why would you say something so awful?"

"You have no idea who I am or what you risk by helping me. I fear you may live to regret it someday."

She shook her head in denial of that and moistened the washcloth in preparation to wash his face. She briskly cleaned behind his ears before moving on to his forehead. "I could never regret doing what I know to be right."

"Even if you risk yourself by doing so?"

Suhad did not hesitate in her answer, continuing his wash briskly as she practically spat out her words. "Even then. That is what marks the measure of a friendship, is it not? And I should like to think that you and I _are_ friends."

"Unfortunately, in my experience, friends can quickly become enemies...if they were ever truly friends at all."

"Perhaps you've made the wrong friends."

Tutankhamun snorted a humorless chuckle at the rejoinder, pointedly ignoring her apparent intention to scrub away all the flesh from his body. "Haven't you an ounce of caution at all or sense of self-preservation for that matter?. I cannot understand you. I'm trying to protect you!"

"From what? From you?"

"From repeating my mistakes."

At that point, Suhad flung the washcloth into the water bowl with a disgusted huff, too distracted by his arguments to continue her task. "And what mistakes are those?"

As she expected he would, rather than answering her question, he retreated emotionally and his expression instantly became guarded. "I merely advising that you use caution," he murmured after a few beats of tense silence.

"Why? Because I want to help you? Because I trust you?"

" _Do not_ do that," he told her flatly, his handsome features suddenly clouded with the inner demons he wrestled with daily, "Do not trust me, Suhad, or anyone for that matter. Trust yourself. To do otherwise is much too costly."

"Is that what happened to you, Khaten? Did you trust someone and did it cost you?"

"To my everlasting shame. I believed in someone, despite my better judgment, and they betrayed me."

"If they betrayed you then it is not _your_ shame! It is _theirs_!"

"But it was _my_ naiveté that allowed them to take the advantage. I should have known better! I should have _seen_ it! But I was willfully blind and I wanted to believe and that was a grave mistake."

"Are you saying that I'm blind when it comes to you?"

"You don't know me, Suhad," he said again.

"And whose fault is that?" she retorted, "I've tried again and again to break down your walls but you are determined to hold me at arm's length!"

"For your protection," he emphasized.

"So you've said before, but I'm beginning to suspect that it is for _your_ protection, Khaten."

He pinned her with an affronted glower. "What does that mean?"

"It means that you've learned a rather peculiar lesson from your betrayal," she said, "Does it truly seem feasible to you to never trust anyone again...to cut yourself off so thoroughly from human emotion, to isolate yourself?"

"It is not isolation. It is self-preservation. It is discernment. It is-,"

"-It is _cowardice_ ," she finished boldly, "and that is _not_ who you are! You say I don't know you, but I know you very well. You are a man who intervened to protect a woman you did not know, who made it his business to return the goods lost to her. You are a man who has fought and bled for his country...a man who feels his sense of duty so strongly that he won't even allow himself to fully recover before risking his life again. You _are_ a good man, Khaten.

" _Look at me, please_ ," she urged when he would have turned his eyes aside, "I would be remiss if I didn't warn you of the self-destructive path you are so intent on taking. Rather than dealing hurt to those who dealt hurt to you, you strike yourself with the very blows they themselves intended for you! How can it be a good thing to never know true friendship again or real love and all due to the actions of people who proved through their duplicity their complete lack of worth?"

He closed his eyes in order to block out the veracity of her words, twin tears slipping from beneath the thick fan of his lashes. But Suhad gently cupped his cheek, her fingers tenderly stroking jaw until he was ready to meet her eyes again. "I'm not immune to your pain. I cannot imagine the hurt you've been dealt. I've seen how deeply you grieve but, please, do not compound your grief by granting your enemies an emotional victory over you."

"I hear your words," he acknowledged in a thickened tone, "But I am not yet in a place where I can even conceive it. Do you understand?"

"I do. But I would like you to consider my advice nonetheless."

Tutankhamun covered her hand with his own, staring up at her with an expression full of awe, gratitude and admiration. "How is it that you are able to speak with so much wisdom and authority about such things?" With his words and his touch, Suhad felt that familiar electric energy crackling between them, a powerful pull towards him that seemed to grow in intensity the longer she was in his presence. She didn't know quite what to make of it but she did know that feeling filled her with a peculiar uneasiness.

Beset by a sudden, inexplicable trembling at both his touch and the intent way he regarded her, Suhad briskly pulled her hand from his grasp and resumed the clinical washing of his face in hopes of shaking off the odd feelings he stirred in her. "I'm hardly wise, Khaten," she scoffed, "I merely believe it would be an inconsolable loss if you never allowed yourself to be truly loved by someone and to love truly in return."


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N: So, I'm sure those of you who are reading realize I am following the miniseries pretty closely and I am but I will also be taking a lot of liberties along the way. I do follow the sequence of events, _however_ , I am going to be expanding and changing details in the miniseries along the way. That will become more and more apparent as the chapters continue. **

**I have this story outlined from beginning to end. I know what happens in each chapter and how long it will be (26 chapters + the prologue). I hope to update at least once or twice a week and I hope I do Tuhad and their love justice. Thanks for reading.**

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

She had been gone for the better part of the afternoon and that was not like her. Though Tutankhamun had only been acquainted with Suhad a very short time, he had quickly learned her habits. She usually rose before dawn, creeping from the hut to gather supplies for the day so that she could return before he awakened. What she did not know was that he was never asleep when she prepared to leave. Instead, he would like on his pallet and watched her through heavy lidded eyes as she readied herself for the day.

He had learned many things about his unlikely savior though that quiet study. For one thing, he discovered that Suhad had a most endearing habit of muttering to herself when engrossed in a task. Many times during the morning he would lie there and listen to her scuttle back and forth while talking to herself. It always made him smile. He also learned that she would never, ever leave the hut without first checking him for fever.

Often, he lay there as her fingers coasted across his forehead and cheek, with bated breath and absolutely sure the loud, insistent pounding of his heart would give away the fact he was awake. But the last thing he learned about Suhad was the most pertinent of all. She was a creature of habit. Whatever time she left the hut, Suhad was never stayed away from him more than a few hours at a time.

So when he had decided to take a short nap in her absence that morning, Tutankhamun had fully expected to awaken to her return. But now he was fully awake and had been so for hours and still there was no sign of her. Consequently, his mind began to dwell on several worst case scenarios, each new worry more terrible than the one that had preceded it. What if she had been waylaid by the soldiers looking for him? What if they'd taken her into custody in hopes of discovering his location? Or, worse yet, what if she had been intercepted by a Mitanni marauder band? What if they had taken her captive? What if she was being raped and tortured? Or, he agonized inwardly, what if she had been killed? How would he ever survive _that_?

The longer Tutankhamun sat there, tortured by morbid what-ifs, the more agitated and helpless he felt. He was in no shape to go looking for her which only worsened his frustration and fear. While he was stronger now than he had been a week prior and he had regained much of the mobility he'd lost following his injury, his reserves of strength were still very limited. If the worst had happened and Suhad had fallen into danger there was little he could do to protect or rescue her. He could barely protect himself.

Disgusted with himself, Tutankhamun passed the time between stabbing the ground with the dagger Suhad had left behind with him for protection and fervently praying to the gods for her safe return. He was moodily drawing deep ruts in the floor when she finally ducked through the hut entrance's just as dusk was approaching. Tutankhamun's sagging relief at seeing her well and unscathed was short-lived, however, and instantly replaced with irritation over the needless worry she had caused him.

"Curse you, Suhad! Where have you been?" he demanded tautly as she bustled inside.

Suhad tossed him an insulted glance as she set aside her supplies. "Well, that's a fine greeting."

"You've been gone for hours without word! I was going out of my mind with worry!"

She winced and immediately came to kneel before him, her head bent in chagrin. "I am sorry. I didn't intend to frighten you. I hadn't realized that I would be away quite so long."

"Where did you go?"

"To my village," she explained, "My family hasn't seen me in days. I had to come up with a plausible excuse for my father or he was going to have my skin. He is not very pleased with me at present."

All lingering irritation leaked from Tutankhamun's body then, leaving him filled with regret and shame. "Then I am the one who should be apologizing to you for placing you in such a position...and for speaking to you so forcefully."

"You're forgiven," she reassured him without hesitation, "Besides, I'm pleased to know you care enough about my comings and goings to feel even a modicum of concern."

"Of course, I am. You're my food source," he joked but the reverential way he looked at her right then made it clear that she meant far more to him than that.

She snorted a giggle. "Of course."

He favored her with a smile filled with admiration. "I meant what I said, Suhad. I don't deserve all that you've done for me and I'm very aware of the untenable position in which I've placed you. You don't _owe_ me anything."

"I truly wish you would not say such things. You haven't _placed_ me anywhere. This is my choice, Khaten."

Rather than argue with her, because he had already learned through experience that he could not win a debate with her, Tutankhamun changed the subject entirely. "Did you have an enjoyable visit, at least? Is your family well?"

"I did and they are." She paused a moment, steadying herself and preparing for his volatile response when she made her next confession. "I told them about you."

His first reaction to that was wide eyed disbelief. "You did not."

"Khaten, I had no choice," she rushed to explain, "We cannot remain here indefinitely. Soon the time will come for the crops to be tilled and there will be people all over this land. If I'm to keep you hidden I'm going to need my family's help!"

"Gods," he uttered in a long-suffering groan, "Suhad, is it not enough that I've placed you in danger, must I compound my guilt by adding your family to the list? I thought you understood that no one can know that I'm here."

"My family will be discreet, Khaten. I promise you. They want to help you. You can trust them."

"I can't trust anyone, Suhad."

"Then trust _me_ ," she insisted fiercely, "I promise I will not let anything happen to you."

Tutankhamun reached forward to briefly brush his knuckles across the ridge of her delicate jaw before letting his hand drop away. "And if something happens to you?" he countered, his tone thick with emotion, "I could not bear it."

"I will be careful," she promised, "I will be safe. Haven't I done so thus far? Do not trouble yourself overmuch. I can take care of myself."

He bit back to urge to chastise her for her lack of caution. "When do you propose to leave?"

"Tomorrow morning, if you've the strength. My village is about a quarter day's journey from here."

For another countless time, Tutankhamun found himself bewildered as to why she was so insistent on helping him. Guilt and gratitude swept through him with equal force. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I care about what happens to you. Because we are friends and that is what friends do."

"It is more than I deserve, Suhad. _You_ are more than I deserve. I'm so sorry to-,"

She pressed a swift finger to his lips when he would have argued. "Ah. No more. I've had my fill of your self-deprecation. If you apologize to me again then you will not get your gift."

The corners of his mouth curled in a slow smile. "A gift? You brought me a gift?"

Suhad favored him with a dimpled smile. "Not that you're deserving in the least." She momentarily left his side to retrieve her parcels before presenting him the bundle with a wide smile.

"What is all this?" he asked.

"Have you been without proper attire for so long that you cannot recognize clothing when you see it?" she teased him with a laugh, "I thought that since they are searching for an Egyptian soldier it would be better if you didn't look like one."

He palmed through the garments she had brought for him. They were very unlike the fine linen he was accustomed to wearing in the palace. The material felt coarser, heavier and was nowhere as brilliant in color and yet, in that moment, Tutankhamun felt as if she had bestowed him with the greatest treasure known to mankind. He favored her with a wide, boyish smile. "How very clever of you."

"I have my moments." They continued to regard one another in grinning silence for a few seconds more before Suhad finally said, "Well, try them on then. I've grown quite weary of looking upon your bird-like chest day after day." With a laughing eye roll, Tutankhamun rolled to his feet to oblige her request, slipping the outer garment down over his head. As he worked to fit his arms into the sleeves, he grunted and groaned over the strain the stretching and pulling put on his sore muscles.

Suhad turned a laughing glance up at him. "Come on, then, you can surely do better."

"Can't you see I'm struggling? Some assistance would be appreciated," he pouted.

"What a child you are," she teased even as she rose to her feet to fulfill his request, "You've never made trade. You've never purchased beer. You couldn't build a fire even if your life depended on it and you're completely hopeless at grooming yourself. However did you make it this far in life, Khaten?"

"I'm pleased to know that my limited knowledge in life's most basic tasks amuses you."

"You are an extremely odd man," she told him, "I find it intriguing however, so I'll make allowance."

"How very magnanimous of you."

Suhad was still chuckling softly over their playful banter as she grasped hold of the lapels of his inner robe and tied the drawstrings in a tight loop. She then smoothed the material down against his chest, unmindful that he was slowly closing the distance between them until they stood a few scant inches apart. She gasped softly when she became aware of their proximity, her startled gaze colliding with his darkly intent one. He regarded her with a heavy lidded look, the heat of his body radiating off of him and warming her own. A shiver of anticipation quaked through Suhad's body but anticipation for what she could not be sure.

"Thank you," Tutankhamun whispered before dropping his eyes to her lips deliberately and then meeting her eyes again in silent appeal.

"You're welcome," she whispered back, trying valiantly to ignore the sudden racing of her heart as he moved a fraction closer. Suhad swallowed thickly, her tongue suddenly feeling three times its normal size. "Do...do you need help with rest of it?"

His breath stirred warmly against her sensitive flesh of her ear as he murmured, "Yes...please."

Though it took every reserve of emotional strength she possessed, Suhad cleared her throat and took a step back to place some much needed distance between them. She grabbed the remaining bundle of clothing and shoved the garments into the center of his chest. "I think you're old enough to dress yourself, Khaten."

Tutankhamun watched her retreat with an inward grunt of amused disappointment, the corner of his mouth lifting in an ironic smirk. He followed her with a speculative look as she fiddled with the packages she'd brought back in an attempt to distract herself and avoid meeting his eyes. "Suhad?" She jumped at his soft utterance but still could not find the courage to look at him directly. "What happened just now?" he wondered aloud.

Suhad lifted her shoulders in a careless shrug. "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't you?" Though she shook her head in feigned ignorance, Tutankhamun remained undeterred. "I thought perhaps there was something more happening between us a moment ago. I felt it...didn't you?"

She offered him an arch look over her shoulder. "And what would that be?"

"You know exactly what I mean. There is something between us, Suhad, and there has been almost from the first moment we met in Thebes." His matter-of-fact tone had her snorting out a self-conscious laugh and following it with sputtering protests. But despite her denials, Suhad was acutely aware that nothing he had said was untrue. What was worse...he knew it as well. Tutankhamun confirmed that in his next words to her. "I've wanted you since that first day I saw you in the beer hall and I believe you feel the same for me. This moment was an inevitable conclusion, don't you think?"

"And if I said I don't agree?" she challenged.

"I see no need for us to be coy with one another, Suhad."

Bristling over what she perceived was arrogance rather than forthrightness, Suhad pivoted to face him with arms crossed defensively. "You see no need? So I'm to fall all over you simply because you've expressed your desire for me?" The expression on his face plainly confirmed that was exactly what he expected. Suhad snorted another laugh, but this time she was more affronted than embarrassed. "You really are too much!"

"Are you angry with me?" he surmised with some surprise, "Would you rather I not speak so candidly?"

"Candor? From you? That's a rather ironic turn!"

The mocking censure in her voice was impossible to ignore. Tutankhamun drew himself up into a defensive posture. "Do you think me insincere?"

He regarded her with such a hurt expression that it was difficult for Suhad to maintain her aggravation with him. Her indignation with him abated just as quickly as it had been inflamed. "No. I don't believe you're being insincere."

"Then why are you angry?"

"Because I discern that I could come to care for you very, very deeply, Khaten. I already do."

Tutankhamun furrowed his brow in confusion. "And you find this disagreeable because..."

"...Because I know so very little about you," she replied quietly, "and, regrettably, you don't seem at all inclined to remedy that. The worst thing I can imagine is falling in love with a man who won't let me close to him."

He wasn't surprised by her answer. It was, in fact, the same circular argument they had been having for the entirety of their acquaintance. Her natural desire to know more about him was, unfortunately, diametrically opposed with his newfound determination to remain as honest with her as he was able.

In the beginning, he had kept the truth from her out of a sense of self-preservation. But as they became closer and their friendship began to deepen, Tutankhamun found himself keeping silent, not because he feared he confiding in her, but because he knew could not tell her the entire truth without losing the tenuous bond they had built between them.

Before it had merely been a risk to reveal his true identity, but now he hesitated doing so for fear the dynamic would change between him and Suhad. He had little doubt that once she learned the truth she would stop regarding him as her friend. He would become only her Pharaoh and that was the last thing he wanted. Furthermore, he could not, would not place himself in the indefensible position of having to lie to her. Suhad deserved better than that. She also deserved to know him. And it seemed to Tutankhamun that he was not in a position to give her either thing.

As if she had somehow discerned his inner struggle with himself, Suhad cajoled softly, "I'm not asking you to divulge a full narrative of your history, Khaten. Tell me one, true thing. Just one and, I promise you, I will leave it until you are ready to tell me more."

"His name is Ka."

She gave a small shake of her head, confused. "Excuse me."

"My friend...the one who betrayed me. His name is Ka." Taken aback that he had actually consented to her request and fearful that he would regret doing so if she pushed him further, Suhad sank down on a nearby boulder and waited in patient silence for him to continue.

"We had known each other since our boyhood," Tutankhamun recounted, "and he was closer to me than a brother. He's the entire reason we met in the beer hall that day. There were things he said to me, _needed_ things, that compelled me to want to be a better man. I trusted him with everything. We fought side by side together in the Mitanni battle. When I was wounded, he tried to shield me but I told him to continue on in the battle...that I would get myself to safety...

"I imagine I must have lost a great deal of blood because I don't really remember anything beyond propping myself against a nearby wall. I tried to stay awake, but... When I opened my eyes again, I was in terrible pain and Ka was there...he was kneeling over me. I thought he would help me but he didn't. He walked away. He left me there to die."

"Are you sure?" Suhad pressed, "You were injured and you'd lost a great deal of blood. Are you sure you didn't imagine it?"

Tutankhamun shook his head in terse denial. "He wasn't alone when he found me. There was someone else with him and they were talking, _debating_ on whether to finish me off or leave me there to rot. In the end, they chose to leave me for dead."

"But why would he do that?" Suhad queried in a quiet tone.

Tutankhamun bit his lower lip in an averse gesture, clearly disinclined to elaborate further. Suhad prepared to press him further but before she could even begin to formulate her next words to him, he surprised her by breaking the long stretch of silence between them. "I suppose he did it because I have the misfortune of being married to the woman he loves."

Suhad inhaled a sharp breath, feeling as if she had been punched in the chest. "What did you say?"

"I don't love her, Suhad, not in that way. _Never_ in that way. We married for duty and nothing more."

"So you...you are married?"

"Yes. Since I was nine years old."

His revelation left Suhad reeling and filled with rolling anguish. Of all the things she had expected him to confess to her _that_ was something she had never imagined. All this time, she had been pressing him for some small insight into his life and now that she had it Suhad wished he had never told her anything at all. She rose to her feet on trembling legs, regarding him with a betrayed expression. "You have a wife."

"It is not a true marriage! I tell you the full truth when I say she is a sister to me! I could never feel for her or for any woman, for the matter, the way I feel for you."

She whirled to her feet, briefly clapping her hands over her ears as if trying to blot out his words to her. "Gods, Khaten...you cannot say such things to me moments after revealing you are married to another! It is not right! It is not fair!"

"It's not a _real_ marriage," he insisted fiercely, "It does not even come close to touching what we share! There is _nothing_ in my life that does!"

"But you _have_ made promises to her, have you not? Do you deny that?"

"No. I do not. Nor do I deny that I hold an obligation towards her still."

Her pretty features crumpled in trembling despair. "Then where does that possibly leave us?"

"I want you to understand. None of it matters. I want you to be with me."

Suhad shook her head, as if trying to shake his words from her ears and from her heart. "I'm not sure if I can, Khaten," she uttered, pivoting to flee for the exit, "I'm sorry."


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

"You've gained great strength in such a short period of time," Suhad acknowledged as she and Tutankhamun made their way across the rugged terrain towards her village. He deftly navigated the path across the rocky ground with the use of a walking stick, stumbling only a few times since their journey had begun. Suhad was proud of him. "I'm glad to see it."

He nearly lost his footing completely at the admiration he detected in her casual observation. She gave the compliment so effortlessly, as if she had not spent the remainder of the previous evening after their abbreviated disagreement and the better part of that morning giving him the silent treatment. Following their argument, Suhad had excused herself from the hut in order to "organize her thoughts" as she had phrased it. She'd kept herself hidden for hours afterward. When she later returned, guarded and somber, she didn't speak a word to him at all. Consequently, Tutankhamun had spent the night restless with insomnia, half in anguish at the prospect of having possibly alienated her with the truth and half in anger because he felt as if she were punishing him for telling it.

Biting back to compulsion to make a comment to that effect, Tutankhamun murmured instead, "Yes, the gods have imposed their will."

Given the explosive atmosphere crackling between them, it was the wrong thing to say. While Tutankhamun had been able to squelch his irritation with her, Suhad had a more difficult time bridling her tongue with him. She stopped short at his remark and flashed him a narrowed glare filled with irritation. "Was it the gods who dragged you from the riverbed, stopped your bleeding wound or kept you hidden?" she snapped.

"You mock the gods when they are the proof that I still breathe."

" _You_ are the proof that you still breathe, Khaten! Your own will! Why must you continually give away your own glory?"

"Suhad, have you ever once considered that perhaps it was the gods who led you to me...that they meant for you to find me?"

She emitted a scornful snort under her breath. "For what purpose?"

"To bring us back into each other's lives again," he replied softly.

Suhad's shoulders slumped forward with his words, her spine losing much of its rigidity when she detected the implication behind his words. "Do not do this to me, Khaten," she pleaded in a small voice, "My feelings haven't changed."

"Shouldn't we discuss it, at least? I wish to understand why."

"You know why! Why must we discuss it further? You have a wife. You have a life that is completely separate from my own. I'm not even certain at this time if you have children!"

"I don't," he answered quickly, but something in his tone alerted Suhad to the fact that wasn't the end of it. She quirked her lips in a bittersweet smile.

"But the conclusion is inevitable."

"Because it is my _duty_!" he stressed vehemently, "That is not how I wish it to be."

"What we wish and what is reality have little to do with one another."

He lightly grasped hold of her wrist when she would have walked away from him, waylaying her retreat. "Suhad, please..."

He did not speak another word until she finally, hesitantly met his entreating stare. Once she had, she immediately regretted her decision. She wasn't immune to the boyish appeal softening the lines his striking face. Khaten was typically rather guarded in his feelings, concealing them most often behind an impassive mask. Only on rare occasions did he allow the facade to slip so that his emotions could be read plainly on his beautiful face. It was in those moments that Suhad found him most irresistible. He was an undeniably lovely man, especially now with wispy tendrils of his long, dark hair framing his face and his eyes glowing like amber stones in the desert sun. But to Suhad he was made even lovelier by his willingness to humble himself on her account.

For that reason, she ceased her attempts to resist and nodded her permission for him to continue. "Go on," she invited, "Say what you will."

"Everything I believe tells me that there was design in your finding me that day. There was never any reason for you and I to ever cross paths again in our lifetime and yet we did. I cannot believe that was mere coincidence. You saved my life. You gave me hope. You changed my heart. These are no small things."

"I know that," she mumbled thickly, licking at the tears that slipped mutinously down the slopes of her cheeks and collected in the grooves at the corners of her mouth, "Why do you think this is so difficult for me? I never thought I would see you again either. And after your friend brought me the seeds, you were all I could think about. When I found you that day in the riverbed...yes, I will admit...it felt like providence."

"It was. I truly believe the gods brought us together again. For days I've been trying to grasp the reason why they allowed me to live but now I think I know... _for you_. They let me live for you, Suhad."

"There you go again, giving credit to nebulous, faceless gods who have little to do with the human will."

He bit back a fond smile. "And there you go blaspheming again."

"It's not blasphemy. I see how the gods impose their power over people. The greatest strength we possess is our own will. That is how I knew you were an important man. Not because the gods sent me a vision, but because _you_ would not let yourself die, Khaten."

"Did your Mitanni grandmother teach you these thoughts?"

Suhad grunted a small laugh at the mild chastisement she heard in his tone. "I'm free to think for myself."

"You are wise to use caution. Your words have the power to inflame. The way you speak could anger many."

"Does it anger you?" she countered softly. Suhad didn't realize that she was holding her breath in anticipation of his answer until he shook his head and it leaked from her lungs in a serrated sigh.

"No, it doesn't," he told her, "Truthfully, you sometimes voice aloud questions that I have asked only in the privacy of my own heart. But there is a stark contrast between questioning the gods and lacking faith in them all together. I merely wonder what circumstance destroyed your faith so thoroughly."

"You will see for yourself when we reach my village."

Despite her forewarning concerning the conditions he would find there, Tutankhamun remained unprepared for the bleak poverty that was representative of Suhad's village. The people there appeared lean and haggard with very little materially to sustain themselves. As they walked along the path towards her family's tent, he witnessed several scenes of families with five or more persons sharing one bowl of food. He saw women and children with bodies insufficiently clothed, arms and legs thin and frail from lack of proper sustenance. He witnessed the sick and feeble making a valiant attempt to care for the equally sick and feeble. The subdued air in the camp lifted temporarily with Suhad's arrival and the hope that she had brought goods with her return but then immediately returned once it was discovered she had returned empty handed.

"What has happened here?" Tutankhamun asked, angling a glance all around them, "Is there not enough food for your people?"

"What isn't pillaged and stolen by the Mitanni is confiscated by the priests as tribute for the gods," she said, "After it is all done, we have very little to subsist on here."

"But you seem to have done well for yourself."

"Only because I'm strong enough to make the journey to Thebes in order to make trade. Not everyone is as fortunate as I."

"But if the priests were aware of your circumstances perhaps they would-,"

"-They are aware, Khaten. More than aware. They don't care! The priests tell us that it is our limited tribute to the gods that causes us to continue to fall prey to the Mitanni. 'If only we were to give more to the gods then they would surely offer us their protection and purge the Mitanni dog from our midst,'" she recited bitterly, "It's all a farce! But, regrettably, there are some in my village who truly believe that...namely my own family."

Suhad had barely finished uttering the words when she and Tutankhamun came upon her father pleading with the priest of Sobek, whose temple they regularly offered tribute to in hopes of rain for the crops. The priest was regarding her father with contempt as he spat, "The offering is not negotiable! The Temple of Sobek protects your land. His holiness was lenient on my last visit but you test his good favor! He will not be so understanding this time!"

"Please, my lord," Suhad's father pleaded, "We had a poor yield. I have given you all that I am able. Were I to give more, my family would starve."

"Perhaps you should have more faith in the gods to provide you with your needs," the priest retorted.

Infuriated past reason by that galling declaration, Suhad shot forward before Tutankhamun could discern her intention and quickly placed herself between the priest and her father, her beautiful features twisted with rage. "And perhaps you should not take further from those who already have nothing!" she spat.

"Suhad!" her father admonished sharply, "Be still! Do not do this, daughter!"

"It's not right, Father! It's not right!"

"Will I have the tribute I require or not?" the priest demanded, firmly ignoring Suhad.

Before her father could answer, however, she bit out between clenched teeth, "You will not, sir! You will walk away under your own power or be carried off! The choice is yours!"

Her words garnered the priest's undivided attention. "Are you threatening me, child?"

"I make a promise," she hissed in retort.

"Suhad! Enough," her father snapped, "Into the tent!"

"No, Father, he has no right! He's nothing but a fraud! A false prophet! He doesn't represent the gods! None of them do!"

"You dare to speak to the Priest of Sobek, God of Water, with cursed words?" the priest demanded.

Suhad pinned him with a venomous glare. "I do."

"Please, my lord," Suhad's father quickly interjected, stepping forward to shield his hot-tempered daughter from the priest's coming wrath, "Forgive my daughter. She speaks out of turn. Her brother was recently killed in a Mitanni raid and she grieves still. She doesn't know her place!"

Tutankhamun was still absorbing the revelation that Suhad had a brother when the priest lifted his hand to strike her. "Then I will show it to her!" Before his hand could make punishing contact with her face, Tutankhamun moved with the precision of a striking cobra and intervened, snapping hold of the priest's wrist in a viselike grip. "Don't!"

"You dare to touch me, peasant!" the priest spat hotly.

"You heard her," Tutankhamun intoned darkly, "Save your strength, priest. You may leave under your own power or be carried...which is it?"

"We shall see who is carried!"

Without warning, the priest gave a short nod and the entourage that had accompanied him was suddenly in motion. The attendants sprang forward to attack Tutankhamun with clubs, pelting him from all sides. Though he managed to hold his own quite well against their blows, dispatching one and then another with soldier-like efficiency, the fact that they outnumbered him 6 to 1 curried the odds in their favor. They began wrestling him towards the ground. Tutankhamun was only vaguely aware of the sound of Suhad's hysterical screaming over the punishing thud of their blows. Once he was on the ground, they began interspersing their blows with punished kicks to his ribs and mid-section.

"Stop it! Stop it!" he heard Suhad weeping wildly as he tried his best to absorb the brunt of the assault, "He's been badly wounded and he's still healing! You're going to kill him!"

Somewhere above his head he heard the trembling voice of a woman say, "Take it, please, my lord! Do not set the gods upon us! _Please!_ "

And, just as abruptly as his beating had begun, it ended. The priest raked them all with a scathing glower. "Do not be mistaken," he warned as he turned away, "This will not be forgotten by the gods."

Suhad immediately fell to her knees at Tutankhamun's side as his assailants dispersed and followed their master, leaving an injured Tutankhamun crumpled in the dirt. She gathered his battered body against her breasts, sobbing harshly into the rumpled hair at his temple. "I'm sorry, Khaten! I'm so, so sorry." Though he was the one who had been hurt, Tutankhamun did his best to comfort her, weakly bringing his hand forward to cradle her head against his. She cast a desperate glance over her shoulder to the woman who had pleaded with the priest and given him the full tribute. "Mother, please...help me get him into the tent!"

As her mother bent forward to aid Suhad in hoisting Tutankhamun to his feet, her father said, "I will bury the bodies in the meantime." He leveled Suhad with a mournful stare. "There will be sure punishment for what occurred here today."

Unwilling to dwell on that ominous prediction for the moment, Suhad turned her full attention towards Tutankhamun and tending his injuries. The first thing she did was they were within the safe confines of her family's tent was to inspect the bandage at his midsection. Thankfully, his wound didn't appear to be reopened. Satisfied, Suhad quickly turned her attention to the new bruises and abrasions he'd acquired during his assault.

"I'm fine," he reassured her, "I had the wind knocked from me. That's all."

Suhad deftly wet a cloth with water and ointment and began dabbing at the oozing cut above his left eye. "That is not all," she muttered self-deprecatingly, "You could have been killed simply because I lack the ability to bridle my tongue."

"It's not your fault," he whispered, "You have every right to be angry. I had no idea how thoroughly the priests prey upon the people. It explains much about your feelings." He watched her face as she deftly wiped away the sand from his abraded face. "Why did you never tell me that you had a brother?" he wondered softly.

Though she did not pause in her task Tutankhamun felt her fingers tremble against his skin. "What was there to say? He is passed on into the afterlife now. He is at peace."

"What happened to him?"

"It was a Mitanni attack," she explained hoarsely, "He was fatally injured in the raid while trying to protect our women. He was only fifteen and he died of his injuries three days later. You actually remind of him a great deal. You have a heart like his."

Their eyes met in a charged stare. "So...are...are you saying that you love me as a brother?"

"I'm saying that I love you," she confessed softly, "The end."

Overwhelmed by her confession, Tutankhamun scooted closer and framed her face with his hands. He had every intention of kissing her and would have if the quiet rustling of her mother at the back of the tent didn't startle them apart. Suhad, once again, turned her attention towards cleaning his wounds but the atmosphere between them following her revelation had irrevocably changed.

Their eyes never left one another as she went on to explain in a whisper, "That is the reason I reacted as I did last night when you said...when you told me..."

He leaned his forehead into hers with a serrated sigh. "It was a shock. I understand. I should have told you sooner but I did not know how."

"That's not an excuse for my reaction. I asked you for the truth and you obliged me. You shouldn't be punished for that." She turned her attention to the open cuts that skimmed the ridges of his knuckles. "I suppose it wouldn't be quite so painful if I didn't feel for you as I do."

He whispered her name, nudged her chin gently until she met his stare. "Your feelings are reciprocated, you know? I love you, Suhad, more than I imagined I could love anyone."

"So where does that leave us?"

"I don't know yet."

Suhad released a despondent sigh at his answer and began applying salve to the broken skin on his hands. "My father is right, you know. We will be punished for what happened today. I've managed to worsen matters for my family rather than making them better."

"There will be punishment, Suhad," Tutankhamun promised, "But not for you or your family. I swear to you that priest and all who are like him will answer for what he's done today."

"Not even the Pharaoh himself could make such a promise, Khaten," she replied with a rueful smile, "How can you?"

"The Pharaoh would _never_ allow this to continue were he fully aware of the situation. He _will_ make a change."

The steely conviction in his words had Suhad surveying him with speculative eyes. "You sound so certain of that."

"I am certain."

Before she could question him further on the reason behind his conviction, her father ducked inside the tent. He leveled Tutankhamun with a displeased glare, his jaw set tight. "Does the palace have any intention of relieving our suffering here or must we continue to bleed?"

"Father, don't!" Suhad interjected sharply, "He's not to blame for what happened out there!"

"And yet he languishes here while the kingdom is in upheaval and a new pharaoh is soon to be crowned."

Tutankhamun snapped upright, his entire body suddenly rigid with tension. "What new pharaoh?"

"Have you not heard? Pharaoh Tutankhamun did not return from battle with the Mitanni. His body was never recovered. Now General Horemheb's second in command, Pharaoh's Tutankhamun's boyhood friend Ka shall be made ruler in his place."

Suhad gasped, feeling her entire body go numb with her father's revelation because, after pressing Khaten for answers for so long, it seemed she finally had them...and the truth was nothing for which she'd been prepared. _It couldn't be_ , she balked in her heart. The possibility seemed almost beyond comprehension but, when she began to mediate on bits and pieces she had come to learn about the young man before her, it all made sense... _especially_ Khaten's guarded reluctance to share anything about himself. She whipped a darting glance filled with disbelief to Tutankhamun's face. He would not look at her directly but in that moment the guilt in his eyes betrayed him.

"Khaten?" she whispered, "Is it true? Are you _him_?"

He flinched at the question but deliberately ignored her for the moment, keeping his focus on her father instead. "When is this coronation to take place? Do you know?"

The older man shook his head. "I only know that there are rumors that a marriage is the take place between Ka and the queen and that it is to be soon and that the royal guard continues to search for the man who betrayed Pharaoh Tutankhamun."

Unable to bear another word confirming Ka's and, apparently, his sister's betrayal and recognizing that his window of opportunity was growing smaller and smaller with each passing second, Tutankhamun stumbled to his feet. "I must go now." He made a hasty exit from the tent, not at all surprised when he detected Suhad's footfalls thumping after him.

"Wait! Wait," she called, scrambling after him, determinedly quickening her pace when he quickened his, "Khaten, wait, please! Stop and face me!" When he showed no intention of slowing his retreat or even acknowledging her cries, Suhad entreated, "My lord king, I pray you do not walk away from me now!"

While nothing else had stopped him, that statement had him spinning back to face her. "Do not call me that!" he bit out.

"But it's true, isn't it? You really _are_ him...you really _are_ Pharaoh Tutankhamun."

He dropped his eyes and confirmed her query with a terse nod of assent. "Yes...I am he."

Suhad stumbled back a step, staggered by the weight of the reveal. "Why...why didn't you tell me? This entire time...all those things I've said to you..."

"I didn't want you looking at me the way you do now, the way I've been looked at my entire life," he uttered in a mournful tone, "You speak so plainly with me. I have come to value your wisdom more than you know. I did not want to lose that, Suhad."

"Wisdom," she scoffed tearfully, "I've been impudent and disrespectful in my pharaoh's presence. I've maligned your character again and again. Is that not punishable by death?"

"Your Pharaoh forgives you," he replied with a wry smile.

But Suhad found no humor in his rejoinder. "It's not a joke! I'm not even allowed to touch you."

He closed the distance between them then, reaching out to caress her face tenderly. "But you already have," he whispered, "Please don't let this change anything between us. It doesn't have to."

"You're wrong," she whispered grimly, "It changes _everything_."


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

"Were you _really_ intending to slink away in the night without a proper goodbye?"

Tutankhamun stopped short in the spilling moonlight the moment Suhad's sleepy voice sounded behind him. He had waited well into the night before finally getting up from his pallet near the entrance of Suhad's family tent to gather supplies for the journey that lay ahead of him. After he was finished, however, he still found himself reluctant to leave, even knowing that he had very little time.

He taken those last few minutes before creeping out into the night to watch Suhad slumber, a faint smile ghosting his lips as he listened to the soft, sweet sounds she made in her sleep. In those quiet, unguarded moments she had never been more beautiful to him. He didn't want to leave her, didn't want to contemplate a future without her at his side. In total he had known her a little less than a month and in that short period of time she had changed him profoundly, in ways he was still coming to understand himself. After spending much of his life being denied that which he truly wanted, Tutankhamun never imagined that being experience that loss one more time could hurt quite so much.

It was a long time before he summoned the will to tear his eyes away from her sleeping form and gather together his supplies. However, before ducking out into the cool, desert night he'd allowed himself to steal one kiss, a fleeting brush across the delicate skin of her temple. He wanted to take the memory of her soft flesh beneath his lips with him wherever he went. Unfortunately, Tutankhamun never imagined the gentle gesture would be enough to rouse her and, therefore, ruin all his plans to slip away quietly into the night.

Sighing inwardly, he tipped an accusing glance up at the glistening canopy of stars stretched out across the sky. And then, he squared his shoulders and pivoted to face her. He wasn't prepared for how indescribably lovely she looked standing in the moonlight, her features still puffy from sleep, dark skin slightly dewy from the warmth within the tent, her riotous hair loose and free and framing her face in a halo of tight curls. Tutankhamun had to stamp down every instinct he had to close the distance between them and kiss her like he had been longing to do almost since the moment he had laid eyes on her.

"I thought it might be easier this way." The explanation was feeble and he knew it.

Suhad folded her arms across her mid-section in a defensive stance. "So that's it then? This is how you wish to leave it?"

He spread out his arms to her in a motion that was filled with supplication and frustration. "What other recourse do I have? You heard your father. I must return to Thebes before Ka is made Pharaoh. It is my birthright."

"And what of us?"

Tutankhamun blinked at her in confusion. "You led me to believe that there could be nothing between us. Has that changed?"

"It was never my intention to cut off all contact with you," she argued, "but I cannot pretend that your birthright doesn't impact what can be to each other."

He easily discerned her meaning without the need for further explanation. "I cannot love you as only a friend, Suhad," he said, "I want more than that."

"So you wish to make me your concubine? Am I to become part of your royal harem?"

"Do not cheapen what I feel for you by asking such questions! You know better."

"I know _nothing_!" she retorted sharply, "This morning you were Khaten...a fallen Egyptian soldier with whom I had fallen in love! And this evening you are Tutankhamun, the Pharaoh of all Egypt and my royal sovereign! You could not be further from me!"

Unable to resist the pull towards her any longer, Tutankhamun reached out to gather her into the circle of his arms and hold her close. She was rigid for only an instant before she wilted against him and molded her body to his. Her fingers bunched into the loose material of his robe, as if she feared he might dematerialize right then and there. Tutankhamun placed a tender kiss to her forehead.

"I know you are confused," he whispered, "and I regret the part I've played in that but, you must know, I have _not_ changed, Suhad. The same man who loved you this morning is the same man who loves you now."

Suhad allowed herself only a few precious moments to bask in the unendurable sweetness of his declaration before she stiffened her spine and shrugged from his embrace. "We cannot do this," she told him resolutely, "You are the Pharaoh of Egypt and I am a commoner."

He stretched out his hand to touch her cheek, his heart contracting painfully when she skirted out of his reach. "Suhad...there is absolutely nothing common about you."

"Please stop pretending that nothing has changed!" she cried softly, "I'm not even certain of how I should address you any longer. Should I continue to call you 'Khaten' or must I be more formal and address you as 'my lord' or 'my king?' And, if it's the former, do I even have the right to be so familiar with you?"

"You may continue to call me 'Khaten,' if you wish," he invited in a deliberate and gentle tone, as if he sensed that she was mere moments from a complete emotional breakdown, "My name was once Tutankhaten, in honor of my father. I did not lie about that, Suhad."

"Just every other thing that mattered," she countered in a suffocated tone, "I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. I'm afraid to believe you."

"This was the last thing I wanted. This is why I didn't tell you."

"But you would have had to tell me eventually," she concluded, "Or did you simply plan to disappear from my life without my ever becoming the wiser?"

"I didn't _plan_ any of this, let alone falling in love with you."

She whimpered at his reply, folding herself in half as if he had just dealt her a blow. "Please stop saying that."

"I cannot stop loving you anymore than I can stop being Pharaoh. You are a part of me as much as my ancestors' bloodline."

"Couldn't we go somewhere else entirely?" she suggested with a sudden air of desperation, "We could go to a place where no one knows who you are. We could be together. We could be happy."

"I...I can't," he uttered brokenly, "You know I can't do that."

Suhad dropped her head forward in a defeated nod, concealing the tears of shame that welled in her eyes. "Yes, I know. Forgive my selfishness. I'm being a fool."

"No, you're not." Her quiet sobs began to resonate in the quiet, each gasp sounding as if it were being wrenched from her chest. But, when Tutankhamun moved forward to try and comfort her, she once again staved him off. "Tell me what I can do to make this better?" he pleaded.

"You can't make it better," she wept, "You didn't choose your birthright anymore than I did mine but this is the way it must be."

"Then why did you follow me out here?" he burst out suddenly, "To once again reiterate the many reasons we cannot be together? For what purpose? If it is so hopeless then why prolong this pain for us both?"

"Because I care about what happens to you!" she cried, "You cannot return to Thebes on your own! Surely you must realize that they will have men lying in wait to kill you when you do."

His jaw tightened with the prospect. "I know."

"Then why are you doing this on your own?"

"I realize my options are limited but, I won't be alone when I return. There is a man I believe I can trust. He saved my life but he was taken captive by the Mitanni. I was hoping he might still live."

"If the Mitanni took him alive then it was because they imagined he would be of some value to them."

"Good. Have you any idea where they would have taken him?"

Suhad gaped at him, her tears forgotten completely upon discerning his haphazard intentions for a rescue. "You don't mean to go after him, do you?"

"You know these lands. Can you tell me how to find him?"

"What you're proposing is insanity, Khaten!" she declared with a long-suffering groan.

"As I said before, my options are limited." He ducked his head to pin her with a beseeching stare. "Please...how can I find him?"

She warred with herself for several moments, veering wildly between empathy with his plight and wanting to throttle him for his recklessness. "The king and his army are in one place," Suhad finally revealed with a good degree of reluctance, "So are their prisoners. I can show you where to find them. The journey should take a little more than three days."

Tutankhamun was already shaking his head in refusal before she'd even completed her offer. "No. It's too dangerous for you. And why would you want to accompany me at all? I thought it was your intention to wash your hands of me."

"My intention is not to share your bed and lose what remains of my fragile heart," Suhad clarified flatly, causing Tutankhamun's lips to twitch in amusement, "But you remain my friend, Khaten, and I will always protect you."

"I want to protect you as well, which is why I cannot allow you to accompany me."

Suhad arched a single brow at his phrasing. "Allow me?" she echoed with mild scorn, "Khaten, by now you should recognize that no one 'allows' me to do anything!"

"As your Pharaoh I could command it," he challenged.

She crossed her arms, meeting that challenge. "As my Pharaoh you could _try_."

"Your constant changes in temperament are making me dizzy, Suhad," Tutankhamun sighed in consternation, "I cannot keep up."

"I want to go with you," she said, "I want to keep you safe. It would be impossible for you to get to the Mitanni stronghold on your own. Only the most privileged of that race know how to get there!"

Tutankhamun rolled his eyes in laughing scorn. "A secret passage through the high desert? It's a myth and I've heard it before."

"It is not a myth!" Suhad declared with a proud lift of her chin, "My grandmother showed it to me when I was a child. No army can travel it, nor any man unless they know where to find water. I can get you there safely. I know where to stop for rest and where to find water. Without me, you will _never_ survive the journey!"

She made a compelling argument, not merely because she promised to get him to the Mitanni camp in three days but because the prospect of spending that three days alone in her company was a welcome one. Tutankhamun was disinclined to say goodbye to her at all and three days might just be enough time for him to convince her that she did not want to say goodbye either. Likely her fervent intentions to stay out of his bed and keep her heart would be rendered moot. And ultimately that was the thing that moved Tutankhamun to _refuse_ her offer. He wanted Suhad to come to him because she wanted him despite the challenges and not because he had seduced her in to doing so.

"No," he said with a firm shake of his head, "I'm going alone."

As he hoisted his supplies more securely onto his shoulder and started to disappear into the night, Suhad cried at his back, "Fight their entire army and die if you wish, or you can choose to trust me, Khaten, and we will walk among them without anyone knowing the difference!"

He turned back to face her slowly. "Do you know what you're offering?" he queried softly, "What about your family? They have already buried one child. Do you imagine they can afford to lose another?"

"You won't allow anything to happen to me."

Tutankhamun gave his consent with a short sigh. "I'll not wait til the morning. We leave now."

"Agreed. Let me grab a few things."

They traveled for hours, stopping briefly along the way to secure a camel for the journey. They walked until shortly after the break of dawn talking of nothing and everything along the way. Suhad spoke of her family and, particularly her brother's premature death and how the priests had used that tragedy in order to bilk more tribute from her family. "When they dared to imply that my brother had been killed because we had not been generous enough in our contributions to the temple...that is when I lost my faith. I prayed and prayed to the gods for my brother to live but, they did not answer. I doubt that they will ever answer."

Tutankhamun reached out across the space between them to grab hold of her hand and give her fingers a heartening squeeze. "I believe you will find your faith again, Suhad."

She favored him with a soft smile. "I think I already have...but not in the gods. I've put all my faith in you."

Now that there were no longer any secrets existing between them Tutankhamun also felt free to share with her the stories of his childhood and the isolation and fear he'd felt upon becoming ruler of Egypt at such a young age. "In many ways, my sister, Ankhesenamun was a grounding force for me. We protected one another. She was the only one who could truly understand the burden that had been foisted upon me."

"And she is your sister... _and_ your wife?"

"That is the way it has been done in my family for generations...to keep our bloodlines pure. Even my own parents were half siblings. But I have never loved Ankhesenamun as a man loves a woman. She is my sister and I know that I must consummate my duty towards her, but... That part of our relationship has always been rather...complicated."

"Because she is your sister and you must love her as a wife?"

"Because, in the eyes of our ancestors, she _is_ my wife and our sibling bond is of no consequence. It might well not exist at all beyond the purity of our bloodline, " he clarified, "I am expected to honor her as a husband would a wife even as I continue to feel for her as a brother would a sister. It can be a confusing contradiction and Ankhesenamun has struggled with it just as much as I."

Suhad digested all that he had confided in her with a small, uncomfortable nod. "I can imagine."

He appraised her with a sideways glance, astutely recognizing what she had let unspoken. "You don't approve."

"I find the circumstances to be...ah...somewhat disconcerting and I don't fully understand why such matters are conducted in the manner they are, especially when it causes such unhappiness for those involved, however... It's not for me to approve or disapprove," she said, "I know that, were it within your power to make a different choice, you would have made it."

Impulsively, he pressed a grateful kiss to her temple. "Thank you."

Suhad squinted at him in confusion. "For what?"

"For understanding what drives my actions even when I don't fully understand myself," he told her simply, "For being my friend."

As noon approached they made the mutual decision to stop and take a rest from the oppressive heat that was beginning to descend across the desert plain. After finding shade beneath a wing shaped crag, Tutankhamun and Suhad tied down their camel and enjoyed a simple lunch of bread and water before scooting down into the shade for a short nap. They lay down facing one another, bodies curled towards each other and fell asleep.

When Tutankhamun awakened some hours later dusk was approaching and Suhad was no longer sleeping alongside him. Instead, she lay nestled against his flank, her arm resting against his chest and her cheek pillowed against his shoulder. She was thoroughly wrapped around him, her leg was thrown across his groin, the bend of her knee nestled perfectly against his genitals. To Tutankhamun's everlasting aggravation, almost the instant he became aware of her proximity, his body began to respond.

He was suddenly acutely aware of the soft swells and hollows of her body that were pressed against him, the moist warmth of her breath stirring against his throat and especially how much he ached to touch her in that moment. Never in his entire life could he remember ever having to exercise such self control in regards to the carnal pleasures. The women of his harem had always been eager to please him and they had welcomed his interest. But Suhad was no harem girl. She was his heart and he didn't want to offend her, was deathly afraid of committing any action that might permanently alienate her.

As much as he wanted her in that moment, as easy as it would have been to shift into her body and kiss her breathless, Tutankhamun resisted the desire. He lay there, his body rigid and damp with perspiration, fists clenched tightly at his sides as he silently willed the lower portion of his body into flaccidity with the most repulsive musings that he could contemplate. He thought he might actually win the battle until Suhad, without warning, shifted against him in her sleep and he was, once again, back to where he'd started. Tutankhamun emitted a muttered curse of dismay in response, causing his unwitting tormentor to stir against him. He held his breath when her eyes fluttered open.

Suhad favored him with a disarmingly sleepy smile. "Hello," she whispered.

"Hello," he whispered back. He couldn't quite keep himself from brushing her wayward curls back from her face. "Did you sleep well?"

She released a small, satisfied moan and nodded against his chest with a languorous stretch, obviously with every intention of returning to slumber. Just as she began to settle back against him and shut her eyes, however, it belatedly dawned on Suhad how intimately they were intertwined. Mortification poured through her like hot acid. She shot upright with a horrified gasp, shoving away from Tutankhamun as if he'd just burst into flames.

"I...I think we might have slept too long," she stammered, unable to meet his eyes as she scrambled to her feet, "We should get moving before we lose the sun. I'll ready the camel!"

Tutankhamun watched her retreat with a mixture of laughter and vexation, wondering wryly if these three days with her, three days that he had wanted so desperately, would kill him.


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

He wasn't overly fond of sand dunes. The irritating granules worked their way into the fabric of his shoes and collected between his toes. A most unpleasant feeling which was compounded by the massive amounts of walking he had been doing for the past two days. Which brought him around to his second realization. He didn't particularly enjoy walking either.

Pharaoh Tutankhamun had the misfortune of making both discoveries whilst he traveled _on foot_ over the sloping mounds...miles and miles of them. He and Suhad had spent most of their morning trudging across the shifting sands, their beleaguered camel plodding behind them, in search of a water source to replenish their dwindling stores. Suhad didn't seem to hold any doubts that they would safely navigate their way through the barren terrain that enclosed them on all sides. Tutankhamun didn't quite share her unwavering conviction on that score but he believed in her and that was enough.

The looming threat of thirst, however, was not the foremost worry plaguing him. His plan to liberate Lagus from the Mitanni prison-hold and return to Thebes _before_ Ka could usurp his kingdom entirely was still half formed. Beyond reaching the Mitanni land, he had little idea how he would manage to smuggle Lagus _and his men_ out of there. _If_ he managed to find Lagus and his company alive and _if_ he succeeded in keeping Suhad safe from harm, and _if_ they all managed to escape the Mitanni with their heads, Tutankhamun still didn't know how he was going to deal with Ka once he returned home.

As angry as he was, as embittered as he was, he still had love for the man. He couldn't think of Ka without hurt and betrayal bubbling forth in his heart anew. But he also couldn't negate the loyalty and friendship Ka had shown him in the past. Tutankhamun knew that his options were limited and, when he finally did face Ka again, he would likely have to kill him. There was the part of him that welcomed the idea, that was steeped in pure rage over what Ka had done to him but there was also the part of him that grief so deeply he felt sick with it, that simply yearned to know, _"Why?"_

It was little wonder then, given the emotional burden he carried in his heart at all times and the physical duress he was currently under, that Tutankhamun found himself tiring quickly in the desert's rising heat. While Suhad seemed to push on without wavering, he felt as if his knees were turning to jelly beneath him. With each step he took, he feared that his legs might give out beneath him. But he never complained or asked her to stop. He ignored his body's increasing demands for respite because he recognized very clearly what was at stake...his kingdom and his people.

As if she could had discerned that he was very near exhaustion and pushing himself in spite of it, Suhad appraised him with a knowing, sideways smile. "We can take a rest if you need it."

"Why?"

"You're beginning to stumble. Let's take a break."

Grateful for the reprieve, Tutankhamun didn't even bother protesting her decision to stop and, instead, folded himself down onto the dunes. He swiped an arm across his perspiring brow, eyeing the water skins that hung below the camel's flank with longing. However, he resolutely shook his head when Suhad offered him water from those very jugs.

"No. We should ration what we have...just in case."

"You'll lose water quickly in this heat. You need to drink something."

"I will but not now. I shall remain prudent if that pleases you."

"Suit yourself." Suhad lifted her shoulders in a dismissive shrug and grunted a tiny laugh before taking a small draught from the water-skin before recapping it. She bit back an amused smile as Tutankhamun's warning look. She reached over to nudge him playfully. "Come now, don't look so sour. I have gotten us this far. We will find water. Have you so little faith in me, my lord?"

His intention to answer her question was hopelessly derailed by her rather uncustomary use of "my lord." Once she did that, that was all Tutankhamun registered. He regarded her with a crooked smile. "'My lord?'" he echoed archly, "So I am your 'lord' now, am I? When did this particular development occur?"

She ducked her head with a shy smile. "You are my Pharaoh, are you not?"

"You once told me that the Pharaoh was of no consequence to you."

Suhad dared to glance at him then, not surprised to find him watching her in that intent manner that he often did, as if he could see beyond the barrier of clothing, even past sinew and bone and straight into the depths her pounding heart. "That was before I learned he had eyes such as yours," she murmured in reply, "Besides, I've the prerogative to change my mind."

He dropped his eyes to her lips briefly in unspoken implication. "And what does that mean?"

"It means that I can think of far worse things than having you as my lord."

Rather than causing him to smile, her light teasing caused a pensive frown to crease his brow. All traces of amusement gradually faded from Tutankhamun's features as he regarded her. "What are we doing, Suhad?"

She deliberately misunderstood the question. "Traveling, I thought," she replied lightly.

"You know what I'm asking."

The restrained frustration she detected in his tone had her dropping all pretense with him. "I do know what you're asking, but I do not have a ready answer for you."

"The answer is clear...I want you. _Be_ with me."

"And then what? Shall you take me back to Thebes with you and make a place for me in your palace? Spend your life with me? Love me for an eternity?"

Although he knew she was being facetious, Tutankhamun didn't hesitate a moment in his answer. "Yes...to all of it." Suhad faltered under his unswerving sincerity. "Why do I suspect that is precisely what causes you the most distress?" he discerned softly.

"Your place is in Thebes. My place is in Amurru," she recited, as if she meant to convince herself as well as him, "You were born to royal blood and I was not. We were never meant to meet...never meant to fall in love..."

"...and yet we did," he finished for her, "We did, Suhad. And we cannot go back. My heart is set upon you and I cannot change it. I don't want to. Do you wish to change yours?"

"I don't know!" she burst out a little wildly, "I don't know how you can be so certain all the time! It's quite vexing!"

Tutankhamun snorted a humorless laugh. "My love, _you_ are the only thing of which I am certain. Who I am and what my future as pharaoh will be, I haven't a clue! I have been entrusted with an abundance of power, bestowed upon me by the gods, to lead my people, to further Egypt's unmatched glory...and I don't have the slightest idea how to go about doing that!" He dropped his head forward with a defeated sigh. "You're wrong, Suhad. I'm anything but certain."

He found the wherewithal to look at her again only when she lifted her hand to cradle his cheek. "You will be a great pharaoh," she declared tenderly, "Exactly what our people need. You've already set off on that path, Tutankhamun. You have only to believe in yourself." She leaned into him, sensing his need for comfort then and putting aside her own misgivings at having him so near. At the first touch of her forehead against his, Tutankhamun released a shuddering sigh.

"I knew..." he confessed in broken regret, "I knew of all of it...how the priests were taking advantage of the people and I knew the Mitanni were pillaging our borders, continually encroaching upon our lands. I even knew that Ka and Ankhesenamun were involved behind my back.

"But all of that seemed so small in comparison to the responsibility I had before me, to produce an heir in my father's name, to ensure that the purity of our bloodline continued.

"And then I ventured outside of the palace walls, something I had never done before," he continued hoarsely, "and I saw how my people lived, how they were oppressed and vulnerable and left unprotected. I learned firsthand how the people viewed their pharaoh...and I didn't like the knowledge I had gained. I had a responsibility to my people that I left ignored for so long that I'm not sure I can now undo the damage that has been done. I want to be remembered as a great pharaoh in my people's eyes but, how can I expect such a distinction when I've done so little to merit it?"

Tutankhamun didn't even realize he was weeping until Suhad began gently kissing away the tears that clung to his eyelashes. "Your rule is yet in its infancy, my king. You have the time ahead of you to accomplish all you set out to do. A great pharaoh is not without his flaws," she told him, "but he recognizes them and strives to better himself. No matter what they tell you, Khaten, you are _not_ a god...not yet. You are a man and you have a man's limitations. Your people don't expect perfection and, most certainly we do not need the counterfeit 'protection' the priests can offer us. We want to know that we matter to our pharaoh. That he will love us. That he will fight for us. That is all your people expect of you. That is all we require." She pressed a fervent kiss across the ridge of his cheekbone. "It is all _I_ require."

Those sweet words of reassurance were his undoing and Tutankhamun found himself unable to stamp own the desire to kiss her any longer. The first touch of his lips was little more than an exchange of breath and yet it left Suhad gasping in surprise and rearing back from him. Tutankhamun expected it would end there and that she would run from him as she always did. Instead, Suhad emitted a small yearning sound and pressed her mouth to his once more, sighing in contentment when Tutankhamun began tentatively returning her kiss.

He nibbled at her lips indolently, familiarizing himself with their soft contours. Each tiny moan she made in response thrilled him, inflamed him with the need to deepen the kiss. Their breathing became increasingly labored as they angled closer together, rising upon their knees to coast their hands over one another in darting exploration. It was only when Tutankhamun dared to bring Suhad's body flush against him, his hands slipping low to cup her to him when he slipped his tongue into the warm interior of her mouth that Suhad abruptly ended the kiss.

She shot to her feet swiftly, visibly flustered by how quickly things had escalated between them. "I think that's enough for now," she announced shakily.

Tutankhamun stared after her in a daze, his lips still tingling with the memory of her taste. "It is?"

Somehow, she managed to suppress her giggle at his pouting expression. "I'm afraid so. We should get a move on while we yet have the sun."

She bent down to retrieve their scattered supplies only to be caught off guard by his sudden closeness when she straightened. Before she could question his intentions, Tutankhamun gently cupped her face in his hands and sealed his lips to hers once more. She whimpered into his mouth, her slim fingers bunching into the coarse material of his outer robes as he kissed her with a demanding hunger that would not be denied. When he finally broke the kiss some moments later they were both panting and shaken. Suhad stared up at him with glassy eyes.

" _Now_ we can go," he managed hoarsely.

They walked on together in relative companionable silence for a portion of the afternoon. At some junctures, they would walk side by side with the camel trailing behind them, discreetly holding hands and exchanging shy giggles over the ridiculous thrill such innocent touches gave them. At other times, Suhad would ride on the camel's back while Tutankhamun followed her verbal directions and guided them over the sparse terrain. As it became later in the day, the two young lovers decided to ride together, with Suhad's back nestled against the solid warmth of his chest and his arms encircling her waist.

It was near dusk when they reached the pyramids. Tutankhamun dismounted from the camel's back and then assisted Suhad down from her perch as well. Hand in hand, they trudged up the rocky ridge together in order to gain a better view of the gleaming pyramids which stretched across the valley below. For a moment, the two of them could only stand together in the mellow glow of the setting sun and regard those ancient landmarks with silent awe.

"The pyramids have survived for thousands of years..." Tutankhamun murmured in reverential amazement.

"Nowhere else are they equaled," Suhad agreed.

"And our people built these wonders with their own hands," he whispered, giving her fingers a light squeeze, "Our ancestors, Suhad... _yours_ and _mine_."

She knew the point that he was trying to make, that they weren't so different after all despite their opposing stations in life. However, that wasn't an argument she wanted to have with him again, not when they'd enjoyed such a perfect day. Consequently, she made a mental decision to table the discussion and smoothly segued into another subject altogether.

"We'll find water down there," she told him, "and shelter for the night."

Unfortunately, Tutankhamun would not yield to her tacit efforts to avoid conflict. He blocked her path when she would have turned aside to retrieve the camel. "Why are you so determined to believe we cannot work? Hasn't our time together today proved otherwise?"

"Yes...that there is love between us and passion..."

"...and what else is there?"

"Duty," she expressed flatly, " _Your_ duty and we cannot ignore it."

"That is not what I'm proposing. I can still fulfill my obligations and be with you."

"Why me?" she demanded suddenly, "There must be a number of women from which you can choose! _Why me?_ "

"Because you've given me what no one else has...clarity," he told her fervidly, "For years I have prayed to the gods for the wisdom and insight to lead my people and I finally found that when I met you. You see, you are wrong about the gods, Suhad...they _do_ answer."

When he started to close the space between them, Suhad was ready to receive his kiss. She turned her face up to his, her lips parting slightly as he pressed his mouth to hers. She didn't have any true awareness of how long they stood there, kissing one another as if they believed it would be the last one they ever shared. It was as if everything in her world had reduced to a point where nothing existed beyond Tutankhamun's lips and hands and his intoxicating moans of bliss. When they finally parted again the sun had completely disappeared from the horizon and the desert chill was already beginning to descend with the purple sky.

Suhad stumbled back a step and cleared her throat, her body continuing to tingle even with the small bit of distance between them. "Come. We should make the fire and set up our camp for the night."

For the next hour, while Suhad preoccupied herself with starting the fire and gathering water for the next day's journey, Tutankhamun took the bow and arrow they had procured for their trip and set off into the night in search of meat. As Suhad lingered by the fire and awaited his return, the easy domesticity of their situation struck her profoundly. Without even really being aware of it, they had fallen into the traditional roles of husband and wife, operating as a marital unit. Tutankhamun had even dropped a farewell kiss on her lips before setting off on his hunt. And she, even now, waited for him dutifully to return like any wife would her husband. She liked that dynamic between them...a little too much.

Out in the desert when it was only the two of them and his kingship was more formality than reality, it was easy to get caught up in the cocoon they had created for themselves. It was easy to pretend that they were an ordinary couple on an ordinary trip together who shared an extraordinary love. The reality, however, was impossible to ignore. Suhad knew that once he found Lagus and his men everything would change between them. How could it not? He would return to Thebes and his kingdom and she would go back home to Amurru and it would be as if they had never loved one another at all.

Suhad lamented that fact in her heart even as she came to resolute terms with it. And then, she abruptly decided that she did not care. No, the situation was not ideal and yes, she recognized that she would likely be left ripped to emotional pieces by the end of it but...she didn't care. She was determined not to allow doubts and misgivings to dominate her actions any longer, not if it meant denying him and denying herself. If she was only to have Tutankhamun in her life for a short time then she would have him, she would enjoy him, she would love him with everything she possessed in her soul...and then, if she had to, she would let him go. He was worth whatever devastation that would come after he left her life. He was worth _everything_.

She came to her decision only moments before Tutankhamun returned to their camp empty-handed. Suhad startled sharply as he unexpectedly materialized out of the dense darkness and threw aside his bow in disgust. He dropped down beside her with a heavy groan of consternation.

"No luck?" she ventured, caught between sympathy and laughter.

He stared into the fire with a pouting expression. "I do better in the daylight."

"It will be fine. We have some bread and a little grain. We'll manage."

"We were supposed to have meat. A fine provider I make," Tutankhamun muttered self-deprecatingly.

"You'll make it up to me in the morning," Suhad replied, "We shall have roasted hare for breakfast. You will see to it."

"You have a great deal more confidence in my hunting skills than I."

"I have more confidence in you than you can possibly imagine." He rewarded that sweet declaration with a tender kiss. "We should eat," she whispered when he continued to linger against her lips, "and then retire for the night."

However, when they finally settled within the confines of their borrowed tent, sleep was the furthest thing from both their minds. They huddled together beneath the blankets, trading leisurely kisses, their bodies shifting closer as the flickering heat of desire ignited between them. Kisses deepened and their caresses became driven by the need to seek out bare skin.

Beyond all thought for the consequences or the soundness of their actions, the young lovers gave into their passion for one another, eagerly peeling away their layers of clothing in order to touch and taste one another, lips and tongues meandering in tentative exploration. They crushed their lips together again and again, their hips undulating together in a primal, ancient rhythm, hands tensing, fingers curling into flesh in the desperate need to be closer, to go deeper, to become one in every sense. His harsh breathing and her piercing cries of pleasure mingled in a dissonant harmony that filled the billowing confines of the tent before echoing out over the craggy, desert plains.

When it was done, Tutankhamun gathered Suhad to him and spooned her body, lifting his head to drop a tired kiss on her shoulder. She snuggled closer against him in response but did not turn to meet his eyes. He nuzzled against her ear, feeling more contented than he ever had in his life because, right then, nestled in Suhad's warmth, he had everything he could ever want...an ironic sentiment given the fact that he was without home and kingdom at the moment.

He listened to the humming moans of happiness that escaped her throat as he drew his fingers up and down the length of her arm. He knew she was pleased by his touch but he also recognized that the pleasure he gave her would only serve as a temporary distraction from the uncertainty that continued to loom over them. As much as he wanted to remain in that moment with her, he could feel the self-doubts begin to creep in and he couldn't quite crowd part of himself that feared Suhad count this profound act between them as a mistake.

"Do you regret this...being with me tonight?"

She brushed a kiss across the bicep that was pillowed beneath her cheek. "No, I don't." Suhad felt him relax behind her and then angled a tentative glance of her own up at him. "And you? Do you have regrets?"

Tutankhamun grinned at her. "Not in the least. I have wanted this with you for some time now. It was everything that I thought it would be and yet nothing like I imagined at all."

Suhad bit her lip in reservation. "And that's good?"

"That's _wonderful_. You are wonderful." He reached out to brush her hair back from her face, his expression sobering slightly as he regarded her beautiful face in the dim moonlight. "I was the first."

That incredible instant when he had breached her body had been a shock for them both and for a multitude of reasons. For Suhad, she had not quite expected that initial burn or the ache that it would cause. She had been overwhelmed by how innately connected she felt to him in that moment, filled with wonder at the realization that he was actually _inside_ of her...he was a part of her.

For Tutankhamun, he had never suspected that he would be her first experience, never imagined that a village girl from Amurru could feel make him feel so vulnerable, so cherished...and so very privileged and all because she had chosen _him_. She had wanted _him_. In that instant, he had recognized fully the gift he had been given and he had set out to express his gratitude to Suhad in every possible way he could, by worshiping her body with his own.

"Yes, you were the first," she confirmed quietly, surprised by the sudden lump of acrid tears that rose in her throat, "And I was not."

He nuzzled a light kiss across her hairline. "You are the first in my heart, Suhad. And you will be the last."

Unable to mask her happiness at his answer, Suhad brought him closer for a soft kiss before shifting back around in the circle of his arms with a drowsy sigh of contentment. "As will you."


	8. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

Suhad awoke to the pleasurable sensation of warm lips nipping sweetly at her shoulder. She contorted her slender frame in a languid stretch and opened her eyes with a sleepy smile. Her unrestrained joy at being presented with Tutankhamun's beautiful smiling face was short-lived, however, when she realized she lay before him completely uncovered in the beaming sunlight, her nudity boldly on display. With a dismayed cry, she snatched up a nearby blanket and began hastily covering herself.

Her self-conscious reaction prompted an amused chuckle from Tutankhamun. "It's a bit late for modesty, don't you think? There isn't an inch of your body I haven't touched or kissed," he laughed, "And yet, you take issue with my looking upon you in the daylight?"

"Stop laughing at me!" she growled in a pouting under-breath, unable to meet his eyes, "Last night was different! We had only the moonlight. Here, in the harsh brilliance of daylight, every flaw is laid bare. Don't look at me!"

"Why shouldn't I? You're beautiful," he refuted with a disarming smile.

"I know I don't compare to the women you've known," she mumbled timidly.

Tutankhamun frowned at that. " _They_ don't compare to _you_." Suhad raised brown eyes full of naked vulnerability to meet his earnest gaze. "Where is this uncharacteristic lack of confidence coming from, my love?"

"I...I just...I _know_..." she stammered, "I'm not experienced like your palace women in the ways of pleasing you. I have no attendants at my disposal to beautify me and rub me in fragrant oils. I'm not draped in jewels or adorned with expensive linen. I'm but a village girl from Amurru."

"And yet you hold the Pharaoh's heart right in your palm. So who really has the disadvantage?"

"Khaten, you don't underst-,"

He pressed his lips to hers to staunch her stream of words. When she had finally settled and returned his kiss, he nuzzled at her tenderly. "Put your mind at ease. You please me," he reassured her, "Only too well. There is no comparison. We've only just begun and already my desire for you plagues my every, waking thought." He leaned forward to kiss her and gently tugged the blankets from her fisted grasp, baring the smooth, glowing tones of her unblemished, brown skin to his eyes once more. "I see no flaws when I look at you, Suhad," he whispered as he stretched out beside her with obvious intent, "Only the woman I love..."

Later when she lay snuggled against his flank, exhausted and breathless, Tutankhamun found himself playing with her tangled curls and marveling over the realization that there wasn't a single thing he didn't love about her. "I wish that we could stay like this always."

She brushed a fleeting kiss across his nipple, reveling in the low grunt of pleasure that reverberated in his chest when she did. "As do I. But we both know that cannot be."

"If I could change matters...make it simpler for us then I would, Suhad."

"I wouldn't change anything at all," she replied, surprising them both. He tipped a questioning look down at her. "I don't regret meeting you. I don't regret loving you. And I don't regret that you are Pharaoh...because _you_ are exactly the Pharaoh our people need. How can I begrudge that?"

"How did you come to have such a generous heart, my love?"

"I think it is because _you_ are the one who opened it."

Tutankhamun nuzzled a kiss across her forehead. "As you have opened mine." He coasted his fingers across her cheek, neck, shoulder and smooth expanse of her back, unable to get his fill of touching her and wondering, in that moment, if he ever would. "Then let us have this day," he declared impulsively, "And we will consider tomorrow when tomorrow comes. I want to stay in this moment with you."

Suhad shifted upright to drape herself across his body, folding her arms across his chest and propping her chin against her hands in order to regard him with a knowing smile. "Is that your subtle way of implying that you wish to remain abed all day?"

He emitted a rumbling chuckle and threaded his fingers through the soft hair at her temple. "Well...I am not opposed to the idea."

"And what do you propose we would do together as we lazed about in bed so unproductively?"

He nibbled at his lower lip in unspoken implication, his questing hands descending down the slope of her back and pulling her more securely against him, making it inescapably clear what he wanted. Suhad's answering laugh transformed into a serrated moan as he deftly reversed their positions and his lips began a slow descent down the column of her throat. "Haven't you satisfied that hunger yet?" she moaned hoarsely as he shifted on top of her.

His answering reply was muffled against her skin. "Never." He proceeded to spend the next hour backing up that avowal with action.

"I'm starving," Suhad announced shortly after they had finished making love a second time. As if to punctuate that statement, her stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly. She poked Tutankhamun in the ribs when he dared to laugh. "Stop it! It's your fault. You promised me roasted hare for breakfast."

At the reminder, Tutankhamun threw his forearm across his eyes and groaned. "You cannot be serious. I can scarcely move, Suhad. After you have so thoroughly exhausted me, can you not give me some time to regain my strength?"

Suhad rolled her eyes at his dramatic posturing. "You didn't seem to have issue with movement a moment ago."

Belying his earlier declaration of fatigue, he swiftly pulled her against him, nestling himself suggestively in the warm juncture between her thighs to nibble at the fluttering pulse at the base of her throat. "That is because my motivation for _movement_ was altogether different." Suhad shoved him away with a playful laugh and wriggled from beneath him entirely, deftly skirting out of his reach when he would have pulled her to him again. He smirked at her. "If it is your aim to have me give chase, I will be more than accommodating."

Suhad staved off his tickling advances between fitful giggles, their constant twisting and turning as they vied for the upper hand leaving them wrapped together in knots of linen. "My _aim_ is to have you feed me," she chortled, swatting at his hands, "Behave yourself! There will be no more of that until I've received sustenance!" She did her utmost to kick herself free and scoot across the bedding, eyeing him in laughing wariness as he crawled after her with a wide, predatory grin. Suhad wagged a warning finger at him. "I mean it! Keep your distance! Don't make me do something desperate!"

He started to make a dive for her when her belly chose that exact moment to emit yet another roaring grumble. Suhad clamped her hand over her mouth to hold back her embarrassed giggles while Tutankhamun dropped his head forward in laughing defeat. He surveyed her from beneath the curtain of his dark, unruly hair. "Really, my love...you have the option before you between myself and a meal...what is your answer?" Her growling stomach provided a ready response. Tutankhamun groaned.

"Fine then," he agreed, leaning forward to press a firm kiss to her mouth, "Give me an hour." Tutankhamun rose from the tangle of blankets, completely unabashed in his nudity and seemingly unaware of the effect he had on Suhad as he rooted about the tent to collect his discarded clothing without a hint of modesty. She was left sputtering in discomfiture and appreciation as she watched him. It was a sight to which she could easily become accustomed.

After he was gone, Suhad thought that she would rouse herself from the blankets and begin the task of readying them for that day's journey. Instead, she continued to linger amid the rumpled bedding, replaying in her mind each titillating kiss, each heated caress, each fervently whispered endearment that they had shared that morning and the previous night. She was left a little unsettled by how quickly she had developed a craving for him.

Tutankhamun proved to be a passionate and demanding lover. That discovery had not particularly surprised her. What had surprised her was the revelation that he was equally gentle and generous in bed and, unbelievably, almost tentative with her at times, as if he feared committing some action that would turn her off.

She had appreciated knowing that, in some ways, he was just as uncertain as she. However, his unspoken anxiety that he might somehow repel her with his fervor was misguided. Although it was true that he could be very forward about what he wanted in bed and that his candor sometimes shocked her, his unrestrained ardor emboldened Suhad to return his passion with equal measure rather than to shrink from it. The more they were together, the less reserved she became. Suhad was blossoming under his informal tutelage and, in her sexual awakening, Suhad found herself compelled by the desire to fill Tutankhamun with the same insatiable ache he had left in her.

Suhad rolled over with a muted groan, suddenly regretting her decision to choose food over him. Frustrated with herself, she pressed her thighs together in hopes of muting the erotic tingling that had begun to pervade her body. When that didn't work, she made a concerted effort to direct her thoughts elsewhere, namely formulating a plan for when they crossed into Mitanni territory. Finally, after some time of fitful tossing and turning, Suhad drifted off into an exhausted slumber. She was awakened, what seemed to her to be only a few minutes later, by sweet, lingering kisses against her neck.

Tutankhamun's laughing whisper sounded in her ear. "Is this how it is to be then? _You_ are privileged to spend your day lounging in bed while _I_ must earn my meals through servitude."

Those last, clinging remnants of sleep dissipated entirely then and Suhad came awake with a start. The moment she became fully cognizant of Tutankhamun's smiling face inches from her own, she threw her arms around his neck with a happy cry. "You've returned!"

He lifted her against him and held her tight, both taken off guard and flattered simultaneously by her enthusiastic greeting. "Did you miss me?"

"So very much," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Such a greeting and I haven't even shown you what I brought with me." He shifted from her slackened embrace and angled around to retrieve the game he had caught that morning. Tutankhamun favored her with a wide smile brimming with boyish accomplishment. Only _he_ could take such unmitigated pride in presenting the woman he loved with a dead rabbit. "I caught it," he told her wryly, "But _you_ have to clean it."

After Suhad rose and dressed, she was surprised when Tutankhamun offered to help her prepare breakfast rather than simply watching her do it. They worked in tandem to both clean and roast the animal. It was evident from his repulsed expression that Tutankhamun found the process revolting, especially when Suhad explained to him the importance of burying the animal's entrails, but he remained an avid pupil nonetheless. He followed each of Suhad's instructions with very little complaint. Mostly he asked questions. He almost reminded Suhad of an inquisitive child who was exploring his surroundings for the first time. His eagerness to learn even about the most mundane of life's tasks had Suhad surveying him through new eyes.

"You've never done domestic work before, have you?" she asked him when they finally sat down to enjoy their breakfast together.

Tutankhamun took a bite of meat, chewed and swallowed before answering her question. "There was never any need for me to do so. I've always had servants at my disposal to prepare my meals and see to my grooming and general comfort."

"And yet, all this time we've been together, you've hauled water, you've collected brush to start the fire, you've hunted and washed and loaded..." Suhad recounted, ticking off the list, "I don't understand what compels you. You are the sovereign ruler of Egypt and I just watched you skin a rabbit."

He appraised her from beneath his lashes. "Does it cause you to think less of me?"

"No. To the contrary," she replied, "I couldn't possibly admire you more."

"Please do not admire me," Tutankhamun sighed, "What I have done is what I ought to have done. All of my life, others have assumed responsibilities that should have been mine alone...making all my life decisions, telling me what I should do and where I should go...ruling my kingdom in my stead. And, because I allowed that to happen, I left myself vulnerable to my enemies. It's long past time that I started doing things on my own."

"And that is _precisely_ the reason I admire you...because what king would be concerned with such things?"

"You give me too much credit."

"And you do not give yourself enough," she countered.

Uncomfortable with her praise, especially when he felt so singularly undeserving of it, Tutankhamun smoothly changed the subject. "We should move on from here soon," he told her, "We don't want the day to get away from us."

Suhad nodded her agreement, her forehead knit with a pensive frown. "Tomorrow we will reach the Mitanni border. I've been thinking about how we can get into the prison." He groaned in protest, but she held up her hand for silence. "Allow me to speak before you disagree out of turn. If we wait until it is dark, I think I might know a way to get us close enough to free Lagus and the others. But it will require you to trust me and follow my lead."

Tutankhamun sighed at that. "Why do I have the unpleasant inkling that I'm likely to despise this plan?" Ten minutes later, his suspicion was regretfully confirmed but, while he hated it and especially hated Suhad's heavy involvement, he could not counter her idea with an alternative.

"I will be the perfect diversion," she promised him.

"I don't like it."

"I don't expect you to like it. I expect you to _trust_ me. Can you?"

She watched him wage an internal battle against arguing with her before finally jerking his head in a resigned nod. "Fine. We will do it your way."

"So we will wait until the sun sets tomorrow," Suhad said, "and then we will make our move." She grew quiet as she contemplated what events would follow after if their plan was successful. "We haven't really talked about it, you realize..." she mumbled after a few beats of silence, "...what will happen after you've freed Lagus and your men."

"Of course, we have. We return to Thebes."

"I know that," she acknowledged with an exasperated sigh, "I meant between you and I."

" _We return to Thebes_ ," Tutankhamun emphasized again.

She surveyed him with a frustrated scowl. "Khaten, you know I cannot return to Thebes with you."

He shoved away the remnants of his breakfast, wiped his mouth and frowned at her in growing bewilderment. "Why not? I thought after everything that's transpired between us these past two days that we would be together..."

"...I want that. I want to be with you."

"Then come with me," he invited, "You needn't worry about anything. I will take care of you, Suhad."

"That's not the point! Your people will never accept me."

"Of course, they will," he argued with a dismissive air, "You saved the life of their Pharaoh."

"And what of your queen... _your sister_? What will _she_ say about us?"

"Ankhesenamun does not factor into what is between us."

Suhad crossed her arms in challenge of that statement. "I know that you are not so naive as to truly believe that!"

"Why should she take a lover and not I?"

"Is that the reason for this insistence that I accompany you back to Thebes?" she wondered tightly, "To spite your sister?"

"Do not insult me, Suhad! You put words into my mouth that I have not spoken."

"Then why? When you know it shall be a disaster!"

"I do not know that and neither do you!" His outburst echoed through the confines of the tent, stunning them both into momentary silence. When he finally spoke again, his tone was significantly softened. "I thought you and I had agreed that we would have this day," he sighed.

"Some realities won't be kept at bay, my lord." Every ounce of angry bravado deflated from Suhad with that defeated utterance. "Others will not understand what we feel for one another. They will believe me to be little more than your Mitanni concubine!"

He shook his head in denial. "That is not what you are."

"Yet that is what they will see!"

He swept up her hands and pressed them between his own. "I care not what others think about us! All that matters is you and I. I don't want to be without you, Suhad."

"Nor I you," she whispered in reply, "But we cannot pretend that this can go on forever or that I can return with you to Thebes and have everything work out in grand fashion."

"What if I were not the Pharaoh?" he asked her, "What then?"

"We would not be having this conversation! I would spend the rest of my life with you," she answered without hesitation.

"Then I renounce my throne," he declared implacably, "I will not return. Let them continue to believe me dead. Ka will be crowned Pharaoh as he has planned and you and I will live out the remainder of our days together."

It was a suggestion she had made to him before, one that had been born from fear of losing him. The same nagging fear that continued to curse her now. That first time she had asked him, he had refused and she'd understood exactly why he had. Now, he was _volunteering_ to do the very thing he swore he could not do...and all for love of her.

For a brief instant, Suhad felt her heart to take flight and soar with his ardent avowal. She allowed herself to fleetingly entertain the possibility of a real future with him...becoming his wife...raising their children...growing old together. She could see that future so clearly and then...she made the conscious and deliberate choice to squelch the fantasy into figurative dust. Suhad knew that she could never allow him to go through with such a thing. It would not only be the abandonment of his throne and Egypt, but the complete denunciation of his bloodline, his heritage, his dynasty. She would be, in essence, asking him to disown his very identity. Her love for him would not allow her to expect such a sacrifice.

"No, Khaten," she said at last, "I won't ask that of you again."

"You haven't asked this time. I'm offering this to you, Suhad. I would give you _anything_."

"Could you truly be happy with such a choice?" she pressed him keenly, "Or would your conscience plague you for the remainder of your days? You would be unable to bear the shame and we both know it." His eyes skittered away at her astute presumption, conveying more to Suhad than words spoken could have. She swallowed thickly in acceptance. "So you will continue with your plan. You will liberate your men...and then you will liberate your kingdom and you will become the great Pharaoh that you are destined to become."

"And you?" he prompted, "What about you...about us?"

"I will be the woman who saved your life once and shared your bed. Nothing more."

"You are no passing fancy, Suhad. You are etched in my heart. If you think I will return to Thebes and you will be forgotten, _you are wrong_."

She sniffled, valiantly blinking back the tears that gathered in her eyes. "You've had other women, Khaten. Let us not pretend that _I_ am something special. You will find another."

"I will _not_ ," he refuted fiercely, his own tears welling, "Don't you understand? You are special to _me_. I have never known real, abiding love, Suhad, not until you. I knew duty. I knew desire. But true love, the deep, unshakable kind that transcends infatuation and romantic attachment...the kind that compels you to sacrifice everything you are and everything you want on behalf of another...I have only known that with _you_." He cradled her face between his hands and brought her near for his tear soaked kiss. "So do not tell me that I will forget you. I will _never_ forget."

She gripped him to her, sobbing brokenly against his shoulder as she whispered, "I won't forget you either."


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

Being within the Mitanni capital in the full light of day without an army filled Tutankhamun with a sense of foreboding so great he felt as if he were being suffocated by it. It was difficult not to feel conspicuous, even in a sea of inhabits that did not look or dress too dissimilar to the way he looked presently. He was still acutely aware of his nationality, almost as if the title "Egyptian" had been branded into his forehead. He was deeply paranoid that someone would merely _look_ at him and be able to tell. The anxiety made him tense and jumpy. Consequently, each time he and Suhad were passed on the street by a Mitanni soldier, Tutankhamun would make a reflexive grab for the dagger he kept at his waist.

"Calm yourself," Suhad soothed in aside when he started yet again when a small group of soldiers milled past, "You'll only succeed in bringing us unwanted attention if you continue to be so easily startled!"

"Forgive me for my very reasonable unease," he bit back with a sardonic edge, "It is rather difficult for one to relax when surrounded on all sides by the enemy!"

Suhad leaned in closer to mutter in an under-breath, "They are not the enemy here! For our intentions, they are _your_ people. If you want this plan to succeed then you must make them believe it! Now walk among them as if you belong!"

Her sharp words proved to have a grounding effect on Tutankhamun. There was too much at stake. He couldn't afford to give them away before they had even begun. Keeping Suhad's advice in mind, he managed to maintain a calm veneer as they discreetly scouted the city streets closest to the prison and took note of the guards positioned around it.

The prisoners, they quickly learned, were huddled together in a large, open courtyard rather than locked away in cages. Tutankhamun ascertained that they were kept there as humiliation, put on display like animals in a menagerie. Ordinary citizens were allowed to pass by the gates and sneer at them, spit on them and even hurl stones without incident. If anything, it served as amusement for the guards who were posted at the gate. Tutankhamun noted with some relief that Lagus was indeed still alive, though he looked as if he might have preferred the alternative.

In addition to the two guards who were posted on both sides of the prison gates, there were another two situated in the watchtower that overlooked the courtyard. Several more soldiers were stationed in a row along the outer wall of the prison, all armed with spears. It was readily apparent to Tutankhamun that rescuing Lagus would be no easy task and the price for failure would be high but, for him, there was no other alternative.

By the time they reached the inn where they would be lodging until the evening, Tutankhamun was riddled with anxiety over what lay ahead. That anxiety was further heightened by the tension that loomed thick and oppressive between himself and Suhad. Very little conversation had transpired between them beyond travel preparations and strategy since Suhad had made her firm resolve not to return with him to Thebes. According to her, he belonged in one world and she belonged in another.

After making her feelings clear on that score, she had begun the painful process of withdrawing from him both physically and emotionally. At first, she had merely avoided his touch before rejecting his attempts at affection outright and then, as if that had gutted him enough, she eventually stopped talking to him altogether. Their final night before crossing the Mitanni border had not been spent making love as he had wanted. Instead, he had found himself sleeping on one side of their campfire while she slept on the other side.

Somehow Suhad's rejection managed to feel even more brutal than the blow Ka had dealt him. His heart felt like a stone weight in his chest, heavy and oppressive and smothering him in inches. His grief was made all the worse because Suhad did not appear to be struggling with the same sorrow. In fact, if anything could be discerned by her actions, she seemed almost _unburdened_. She went about her tasks as if nothing of consequence had changed between them at all, as if in a matter of days they would not be saying goodbye to one another forever.

Her apparent lack of distress compelled Tutankhamun to mask his own pain. He steadfastly kept focused on the mission ahead of him instead. After that night had concluded he would finally be free to return to Thebes and reclaim all that had been stolen from him. Strangely, however, the prospect did not fill him with the satisfaction he'd expected.

Once they were finally with the confines of their accommodations, Tutankhamun and Suhad methodically sorted out the sleeping arrangements between them as if they had not spent the previous two days pleasuring each other with abandon. Tutankhamun finished preparing his pallet at the foot of the bed before turning to survey Suhad with an impassive look. "We'll sleep until dusk and then make our way to the prison after night falls."

After she nodded her agreement, he lay down and closed his eyes, absently registering the hushed rustling sounds Suhad made as she settled into bed. Given the fact that they had been travelling since well before dawn that morning, Tutankhamun expected to hear the room fill with the deep even cadence of her breathing at any moment. Instead, he was surprised positioned herself at the foot of the bed and angled a curious look down at him.

"What is it?" he wondered warily.

"I was just thinking...for a man so stingy with his trust, you've never fully explained to me how this Lagus came to gain it."

The corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. "When I fell in battle, we were surrounded by Mitanni," he explained, "Lagus deliberately gave himself up so that they would not find me and kill me. He sacrificed himself on my behalf. Now the time has come for me to return the favor."

"He must have a great deal of respect for you to do something like that," Suhad murmured thoughtfully.

Tutankhamun bit back a smile at his recollection of the first time he'd met the gruff commander and the random adventures they had shared following that initial meeting. "Believe me, it was hard earned. Lagus is not a man who easily gives his trust either. He was the one who brought you the seeds, by the way."

"I figured as much."

He chuckled to himself. "When I asked him to find you and give you the seeds, he looked at me as if he thought I'd taken leave of my senses. We were about to go into battle and possibly _die_ and I was thinking about a woman. But he didn't question it. He didn't question _me_. He just made sure it was done. It was the first time in my life someone had done that for me."

"You like him."

"Yes. He has never minced words with me. He always speaks his mind. Not unlike you." He swung up onto his elbow to peer at her intently. "Or, at least, how you used to..."

Suhad flopped back into the bedding with a long-suffering grunt. "Don't do this," she begged tiredly, "I thought it would be nice to have a simple conversation for once."

"Don't do what? Want you? Love you? What, Suhad?"

"Just leave it."

He bit down the retort that threatened to erupt and instead fell back against his pallet with an angry scowl. "Fine!" he snapped, "Whatever you wish!"

After stewing in his anger for what seemed like eons, Tutankhamun finally fell asleep, cursing Suhad for her stubbornness and himself for loving her at all. He was awakened a few hours later by the muffled sounds of weeping sounding above his head. Still half groggy with sleep, Tutankhamun swung up onto his elbow and peered surreptitiously over the edge of the cot. Suhad lay on her side with her knees drawn up into her chest, sobbing quietly into the crook of her arm.

Tutankhamun's heart contracted painfully to bear witness to her anguish and he found himself rising from hi bed without thought and going to her side. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, gathering her into his arms when she swiveled to face him. "Shhh...shhh, my love," he crooned softly into her hair, "Please don't cry."

Suhad pressed herself into his arms without compulsion, his unselfish compassion causing her to weep in earnest. She gripped him tightly as the sobs continued to be wrenched from her chest again and again. He held her gently and stroked her heaving back, earnestly whispering sweet words of comfort and encouragement against her ear. He followed those words with tender kisses, lovingly nuzzling away the tears that clung to her lashes and cheeks.

Gradually, as her sobs died down to quiet sniffles his kisses became more deliberate and lingering and punctuated by something far more potent than mere compassion. Tutankhamun lightly brushed his lips over her eyes before descending lower to bestow light kisses to the tip of her nose. Suhad's breath quickened as he dared to move lower, nuzzling his mouth to the corner of her own. They both froze at the intimacy that pervaded the gesture but neither of them pulled away. Emboldened by that, Tutankhamun seized the opportunity to kiss her trembling lips.

What began as tentative nibbles steadily heightened into deep, searching kisses. They clung to one another, filling the room with the quiet rustling of their clothing as they shifted closer and then closer still. Tutankhamun slid his fingers within the confines of Suhad's outer robe and began slowing pushing the material down her shoulders. Only when he felt her tense in reaction did he finally break the kiss. Their eyes met in a penetrating stare.

"Should I stop?" he whispered.

After a split second of hesitation, she shook her head in answer before shrugging from her robe with emphasis. And then she tangled her fingers in the messy tendrils at his nape and pulled him down against her for yet another kiss. After that, there was no stifling the passion that ignited between them. They removed their clothing in hurried desperation, kissing, grasping and gasping, completely overtaken by their need to join as one. When it was over, they spooned together on the narrow cot, quiet and subdued in the aftermath of their frenzied lovemaking.

"So, tell me...what happens now?" Tutankhamun finally asked when he could stand the silence between them no longer.

"I wish that I knew," Suhad sighed. Before he could tense and withdraw from her, mistaking her reply for rejection, Suhad shifted around to face him and confessed in a small voice, "I want to go with you to Thebes but, I'm afraid."

He was left bewildered and surprised by her admission. "You? Afraid? You've never been afraid of anything as long as I've known you."

"Oh, I've been afraid. I'm afraid of your eventually coming to regret the choice to be with me. I'm afraid of what will happen to us if I return with you," she told him, "Here, in this moment when it's only the two of us, it's an easy thing to choose me, Khaten. You don't have to bear the scrutiny of your family and your court for loving me. You don't have to justify your attachment. I fear that might change once you return to Thebes."

"Do I really strike you as being so fickle of heart?"

"Not fickle. Practical and realistic. Out here in the desert, titles don't mean anything. Yes, you are Pharaoh, but it hardly seems real and it won't be real, not until you go back. But here, right this instant, we are a man and a woman who love each other and that is all. But that is not the way it will remain."

"Of course not," he agreed, "Nor should it remain so. I expect us to become much more to each other than simply a man and woman in love, Suhad. I want to make you my wife."

She couldn't quite ignore the part of her that was thrilled by his declaration even as she recognized that his intentions were impractical. "You have a wife," she reminded him, "Or have you forgotten that?"

"And she does not have my heart," Tutankhamun countered, "Moreover, there is the very real possibility that she tried to have me killed so you'll forgive me if I don't quite factor in that argument as I consider a future with you."

"Do you really believe she would be capable of such deceit?"

"I'm not certain," he replied honestly, "My heart tells me 'no.' We've been through too much together. We've shared too much. She is my blood, my sister. But my heart was deceived where Ka was concerned as well and I cannot afford to be blind to the possibility."

"You should first hear her version of events before you condemn her, Khaten."

He scrutinized her with narrowed eyes. "How can you say that? Are you really arguing in Ankhesenamun's favor?"

"I'm arguing in _your_ favor," Suhad clarified, "You've endured enough betrayal. You don't deserve more, especially from someone you love so strongly. If there's even a small part of you that believes she bears no guilt in this then you _must_ give her the benefit of the doubt."

Tutankhamun gathered her against him in a tight hug. "This is why I need you with me," he told her, "You tell me the truth, not what you think I want to hear."

"Then ask me," she invited him softly.

"No. I won't compel you to choose me, my love. This has to be what _you_ want, Suhad. I can't force you."

"Ask me," she insisted again.

He framed her face in his hands, holding her gaze with steady intensity when he asked, "Suhad...will you come home with me?"

"I will."

She hadn't even finished making her reply before he was flipping her onto her back and peppering her face with laughing kisses filled with overjoyed gratitude. "I swear to you that you will not regret it! I will make you so happy."

Although she hadn't yet reached that point of unwavering conviction, Suhad was not immune to his contagious smile. "You have already made me happy. As long as we're together that is all that matters."

He pressed a fervent kiss to her lips. "I love you."

"And I you."

They spent the next hour tangled up together, eager to make up for the previous night's discord between them. Afterwards, Tutankhamun fell into a contented slumber, exhausted and, for the moment, happy. Suhad followed him shortly after, allowing the deep, even cadence of his breathing to lull her into sleep. It was a short time before nightfall when she awakened again, nudged into awareness by the demands of her full bladder.

Once she had finished relieving herself and had freshened up a bit, Suhad found that her plan to rejoin Tutankhamun in bed for more rest was rendered moot. She was no longer tired. Wide awake now, she took a moment to study Tutankhamun as he slept. He lay sprawled across the bed on his side, the thin blanket twisted around his hips, his long, dark hair having escaped its binding and obscuring his profile in tousled disarray. What parts of his features that were visible were bathed in the orange glow of dusk that filtered in from the window. He was a ridiculously beautiful man, both inside and out, but it was especially the former that made it impossible for her to remain indifferent towards him.

But she had tried. She had tried so hard to strip him from her heart. However, Suhad realized now that was an impossible task, she could not chisel him from her soul, not without destroying herself in the process. The idea of returning to Thebes with him absolutely terrified her. She held no naive notions that she would be welcomed there. When she thought of the scorn and scrutiny she was likely to face, Suhad cringed with dread. But what other choice did she have? Her heart had been hopelessly knotted with his since the moment she had found him near death in that riverbed...possibly even long before that. And now that they were lovers, saying goodbye to him had stopped being an option altogether.

In just a few hours time, the world in which they'd insulated themselves for nearly a month would be breached by harsh reality. She would no longer have him to herself but would have to resign herself to sharing him, not only with another woman, but with all of Egypt. He would no longer be _her_ Khaten, but Pharaoh Tutankhamun, "He, who wore the crown." Recognizing that, she savored every private moment she had left with him, content to perch herself on the edge of the bed and watch him sleep. Only when the moonlight began to filter in through the window did Suhad finally nudge him awake.

He blinked up at her with sleepy eyes and a boyishly disarming smile. Suhad was loathe to see that smile disappear and she knew it would with her next words to him. "It's time."

They dressed in silence, hearts thumping with anticipation and fear for what lay ahead. "Do you want to go over the plan just once more?" Tutankhamun asked once they had finished gathering together their belongings, "Just so we're clear?"

Suhad nodded. "You're going to go and first set matters in place so that we can make a quick getaway. Afterwards, we'll rendezvous outside of the prison and I'll approach one of the guards at the prison gate and lure him away from his post so that you can knock him unconscious and secure his uniform."

"Right," Tutankhamun commended her, "And after I've taken his place at post, I'll find a way to alert Lagus to my presence and wait for your signal."

"Are you sure that it's necessary for me to start a fire? That seems so extreme...and dangerous. What if someone is hurt?"

"We have very few options. There are too many guards and too many variables for us to simply try and make a run for it. A fire is the only distraction most likely to occupy and confuse most of the guards standing post."

"I understand."

"After it's done, you need to make your way back the way you came as quickly as you can. There will be a horse and supplies waiting for you at the edge of the market place. Head directly to the desert oasis where we camped before coming here. Lagus and I will meet you there."

"That's the part of this plan that I hate the most. I don't want to leave without you."

He pulled her forward for a reassuring kiss. "This only works if we split up, my love," he whispered, "But take heart. It will only be a short while and then we will be together again with no other reason to part." Suhad nodded her agreement though she clearly remained unsettled. Tutankhamun's next words to her conveyed his own misgivings. "But, on the chance our endeavors are not successful tonight and we don't see each other again, I want you to know that these last few weeks I've had with you have been among the happiest I've ever known. You've changed _everything_ for me. I love you, Suhad. Always."

She leaned into him with a shuddering sigh. "I love you as well."

After allowing himself a few seconds more to linger in her warmth, Tutankhamun squared his shoulders and took a resolute step backwards. "Are you ready to do this now?"

"I suppose I have little choice in the matter except to be," she sighed.

"Very well, then. Let's go."


	10. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

Suhad was pacing in anxious circles in the shadows of the small alley just beyond the prison courtyard when Tutankhamun made his stealthy approach. Her would be scream of terror as he materialized out of the darkness was stifled behind his hand as he anchored his free arm about her waist to keep her quiet and immobilized. She ceased in her bucking against him when his voice sounded in her ears above the panic that had begun to roar within them.

"Shh...shh, my love, it's me," he admonished her gently, "You'll give away our position squealing like that!"

Relieved at the knowledge that he was no assailant, but no less aggravated him, Suhad swatted at him as she ripped free from his loosened grip. "You nearly scared me to death!" she hissed, "Where have you been?"

"I ran into a small delay when procuring the horses and some...ah...improvisation was necessitated," he whispered in vague explanation.

Suhad regarded him warily. "And when you say procure, you mean..."

"I stole them, yes," Tutankhamun clarified without an ounce of remorse.

"Here he is, citizens of Egypt," Suhad muttered in a dry tone, "bask in his unmatched glory, your Pharaoh...common horse thief."

Recognizing that her grumpiness and sarcasm came from a place of dread and unease rather than real annoyance with him, Tutankhamun pressed a reassuring hand to her shoulder and ducked his head low to meet her darting eyes in the moonlight. "Are you certain you want to be a part of this?"

"It was _my_ suggestion," she reminded him.

"That's not what I'm asking. I will not resent you should you decide you are not ready."

"I _am_ frightened. This plan seemed so brilliant in the abstract but now that it looms before us in reality, I can't stop thinking about all the possible variables that might not fall in our favor. But it's a bit too late to back out now. I gave my word to you that I would protect you and I will." She stiffened her back and lifted her chin resolutely. "Did you manage to finish all of the preparations?"

"I did. Lagus and I should manage to leave the city shortly after you."

She nodded her approval. "Good. Then let us begin."

Tutankhamun took his position behind an overturned cart as the base of the prison hold, neatly pressing himself back into the shadows while Suhad sauntered up towards the gate towards the guards positioned there, her hips swaying suggestively as she did. Tutankhamun watched her departure with narrowed eyes. They had never actually discussed what means she would employ in order to lure the guard away from his post but judging by her provocative stride and the way she shrugged away her cloak to reveal her smooth, bare shoulders, he could hazard a guess...and he didn't like it.

He liked it even less when their target framed Suhad's hips in his grimy hands and began dropping kisses along the juncture of her shoulder and neck while she feigned pleased laughter. Tutankhamun rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, his hands clenched into fists as he warred with every instinct he had to spring up from his hiding place and beat the man into senselessness. He was still fighting to get the impulse under control when Suhad took the guard by the hand and began leading him down towards Tutankhamun's hiding place. The enamored soldier seemed to pay no heed to the infuriated protests of his companion, a fact that suited Tutankhamun just fine. His eagerness to leave his post would prove to be his undoing and Tutankhamun's way in.

As soon as Suhad made her way into position and the guard moved in to take what she had so generously offered him, Tutankhamun sprang up from his concealed place and struck the man hard across the back of the head with the heaviest item he'd been able to find...a large clay water jug. The soldier crumpled with a muted thud at their feet, his fallen helmet rolling heedlessly between them.

Tutankhamun glared at Suhad. "Did you really have to permit him to paw all over you that way?"

She scowled at him incredulously, countering his cantankerous question with one of her own. "Have you seriously chosen _this_ moment of all moments to have an attack of jealousy?"

The chastisement in her tone was all he needed to shake off his lingering irritation. "You're right. That was petty of me. Let's finish this."

After stripping the fallen guard of his clothing and weapons, Suhad and Tutankhamun worked with furtive efficiency to bind the fallen man and secure him someplace where he could not cause trouble for them should he to regain consciousness in the meantime. When the task was complete, Tutankhamun swiftly began peeling away his own garments, committing each discarded article to Suhad as he assumed the soldiers dress and headgear.

"Now remember the plan," he instructed her as he readied himself, "After the fire has been set, take everything and run to the desert. Don't try and stay behind to wait for us. _We_ will find _you_."

"What if you don't?" she considered in mounting anxiety, "What if this does not go as we have planned? What if this is the last time you and I see one another?"

He straightened and reached out to draw his knuckles along the ridge of her cheek. "Then know that I have passed on into the next life a happy man...because you loved me."

The two shared a lingering kiss goodbye before Tutankhamun broke away and began making his way up the same path that Suhad had taken earlier. He felt his belly churning with nerves and anticipation as he approached the lone soldier at the gate of the prison courtyard, acutely aware of the man's suspicious scrutiny as he neared. "He sent me to stand in his stead," Tutankhamun lied smoothly as he resumed the other guard's vacated post, "while he is otherwise occupied."

The other man grunted. "At least he remembered he has a duty," he said to Tutankhamun, "The undeserving dog."

From her concealed place below, Suhad watched for a few minutes while Tutankhamun made small talk with the guard, wanting to ascertain for herself that he had been successful in his ruse before turning her attention to the next part of their plan. Meanwhile, Tutankhamun kept a keen eye out for her signal, all the while keeping his unsuspecting companion engaged in idle conversation and simultaneously trying to attract Lagus' attention as he did. He affected a dramatic shudder when a sudden, stiff wind burst through the courtyard.

"A chill has set in the air tonight," he commented, "Should we not take the prisoners inside so that they might not catch illness and perish as a result of the cold? They can no longer prove to be sport to us if they are dead."

"Let them die," the Mitanni guard muttered, "I've no idea why King Tushratta allows them to go on living at all." He stabbed his spear over in the direction of the courtyard, his aim landing directly upon Lagus. "Especially _that one_ ," he sneered, "Many of our men died by his hand in the battle. I've no doubt that piece of Egyptian filth would kill us all were he ever given the opportunity."

In that moment, Lagus chose to glare at them both defiantly and he met Tutankhamun's eyes directly for the first time. Within the span of a single second, Tutankhamun watched a plethora of emotions flitter across Lagus' countenance...hatred, recognition, shock, disbelief, bewilderment and finally understanding. The seasoned soldier carefully masked his features, seeming to discern his pharaoh's intent without words. Tutankhamun deliberately turned his back to the courtyard again and appraised his Mitanni companion with impassive look.

"You're right," he murmured, "You should definitely keep an eye on that one."

He hadn't even finished making the statement when a sudden blaze just beyond the prison courtyard threw all the nearby guards into a panic with chaotic cries of "fire!" Thick plumes of black smoke billowed into the air, already beginning to obscure visibility in the area. As the confusion began to swell around them and people began scrambling towards safety, his companion bellowed the order to begin herding the prisoners back inside the hold. Tutankhamun made his move then with one well-placed elbow to the Mitanni guard's face. The man fell down at his feet, unmoving.

"You should have probably kept an eye on _me_ as well."

Without any time to waste, Tutankhamun swiftly unlatched the gate to the courtyard, nearly trampled by the outgoing flux of prisoners as they swarmed their way to freedom. "Where are the rest of your men?" he demanded quickly when he and Lagus finally made their way to one another, "We must find them and leave immediately!"

"There's only me, my lord. The others did not survive." Lagus allowed himself only a brief instant of sorrow before launching his own questions. "How did you come to be here?"

"There will be time for answers later, my friend," Tutankhamun assured him, "For now, we must _run_!"

Just beyond the edge of the blaze, Suhad did her utmost to keep a visual on Tutankhamun and Lagus until they disappeared from her sights. Only then did she make a run for it herself. Finding her way to her pick-up point was no easy task. The streets were congested with frenzied citizens, scuttling soldiers and great plumes of choking smoke. Though her eyes and lungs were burning with acrid soot, the air growing increasingly stifled as the small fire she had set began to heave into a raging inferno, Suhad managed to find the horse and supplies where Tutankhamun had so diligently left them.

Navigating her way towards the outer gates of the city proved to be an easier task than Suhad had anticipated. Most of the Mitanni inhabitants were too preoccupied with the sudden fire that had sprung up in front of the prison that they failed to closely scrutinize a lone woman traveling in the dead of night with a single horse and enough parcels to keep her for a week's journey. Despite the low profile she maintained, however, Suhad did not take an easy breath until she was far beyond the fortress walls. Only then did she mount her horse and begin riding at breakneck speed across the open desert, as if the entire Mitanni army were in pursuit. She did not stop until she finally reached the Egyptian border.

Once she was absolutely certain she had not been followed by the enemy, Suhad took a break to water the horse and relieve herself. The night felt uncharacteristically humid and the sticky moisture in the air caused a light fog to hang low to the ground. Suhad lingered for a moment, peering through the opaque wall of clouds in hopes of catching some sight of Tutankhamun approaching on the horizon. The night remained silent. Disappointed, but not yet to the point where she felt worry, Suhad climbed back atop the horse and resumed her journey towards the hidden oasis.

Very few people outside of her grandmother's immediate family had knowledge of that desert treasure. It was a large pool of crisp water that stretched for nearly two kilometers and was surrounded by several rows of stooping palm trees bordering all sides and thick tufts of verdant grass. When she and Tutankhamun had first set off on their journey the oasis had been the place Suhad had been most excited to share with him. She had never imagined that, by the time they finally reached it, they would not even be on speaking terms. Now, thankfully, things were mended between them but their opportunity to enjoy the oasis alone as she'd originally wanted had been lost.

Suhad was still lamenting that loss when she finally reached the sanctuary. To keep from torturing herself with worst case scenarios in relation to Tutankhamun's tardiness, she preoccupied herself with readying the camp for their arrival. After concealing the horse between to palm trees and securing him there, Suhad turned her attention towards starting a fire, setting up the camp and preparing a small meal in anticipation of the men's arrival.

It was only when she had completed everything she could think of and there yet remained no sign of them that Suhad began to panic. She prowled the perimeter of the camp like a caged lioness while she debated the wisdom of jumping on her horse and going after them. She had resolved to do exactly that when the approaching thump of thundering hoof beats sounded in her ears and caused the ground to rumble beneath her feet. Her instinct was to grab a nearby jug of water and douse the fire before quickly concealing herself in the shadows. However, before she could execute that plan, Suhad heard her name being called.

Instantly recognizing Tutankhamun's voice, Suhad burst through the wall of palm trees into the desert clearing just as Tutankhamun brought his horse to a trembling halt and made a stumbling dismount. The two closed the distance between them with glad cries, wrapping one another in an embrace so tight it was impossible to discern where one began and the other ended. They kissed again and again as if to reaffirm the reality of being in one another's arms. Both were blissfully oblivious to Lagus, who stood witness to the loving exchanges of affection between them with growing discomfiture.

Suhad lightly ran her hands over Tutankhamun's face, neck and shoulders, gradually becoming aware of the bruises, cuts and burns that were scattered across his upper body. "You've been hurt."

"It's nothing," he reassured her, trading an unspoken glance with Lagus, "Just a few scratches, that's all."

She fingered the singed skin along his inner wrist. "This is no mere scratch. I will get my salve. It will help you heal faster." She flicked a glance towards Lagus, noting for the first time that he stood alone. "Where are the rest of your men?"

"They are all dead," he told her.

"I'm sorry," Suhad murmured with genuine sympathy. She gestured towards one of the pallets she had set up. "You should take a rest. I will see to your wounds when I am done with him."

As Suhad tended to Tutankhamun's wounds, Lagus quietly noted the intimate dynamic between his pharaoh and the village girl who had saved his life. Tutankhamun had provided only a few answers to his endless questions during the brief break they had taken in the desert, namely the events Lagus had missed during his imprisonment and a vague explanation on how Tutankhamun had come to be involved with Suhad. Presently, they were too far away and spoke much too softly for Lagus to discern their conversation but their body language was all that he needed.

Suhad often leaned in close to Tutankhamun when she spoke to him, her body gravitating towards his without conscious thought. Pharaoh Tutankhamun, for his part, was equally drawn to her. He watched her intently...the curve of her mouth when she smile, the small gestures of her hands, the way she tossed back her head when she laughed...it was evident his pharaoh was a keen admirer of all of it. There was an intimate familiarity between them that could not be denied. It was clear from the way they looked at one another and the way that they touched that there was much more between them than friendship or passing fancy.

After she finished dressing the last of Tutankhamun's wounds, Suhad pressed a fervent kiss to his bandaged hand and then rose to approach Lagus. "Now it's your turn."

He laughed lightly as she knelt down before him. "Should I also expect such loving kisses as you are bandaging my wounds?" he teased her.

His pharaoh was swift to answer that question and without a hint of amusement. "No, you should not."

Suhad and Lagus exchanged a secret smile at Tutankhamun's obvious and very needless jealousy before Suhad set to work. She inspected the blistered skin of Lagus' forearm, whimpering in remorse as she ascertained the severity of the burn. "I am so sorry for this," she said earnestly, "No one was meant to be hurt."

"You owe me no apologies," Lagus replied, "Your courageous actions tonight and in the past led to my freedom and my pharaoh's continued good health. For that, I will always be grateful to you. Thank you, Suhad."

"It is I who should be thanking you," she countered softly, "After all, _you_ saved him first."

Once she was finished tending to him, the three of them sat down before the fire to enjoy the meal that Suhad had prepared earlier and Lagus was able to gain a few more details surrounding Tutankhamun's experiences following the Mitanni battle. After they had finished eating, Lagus then excused himself in order to wash away the accumulated stench and grime he had acquired since his imprisonment. Suhad waited until he was well beyond the trees before she turned to address Tutankhamun.

"Does he know about all of it?" she asked, "About Ka and his betrayal."

"He knows everything but not the details. We still have those things left to discuss."

"Then I will give you time to do so in private." She reached up to lightly skim the singed skin along his collarbone. "What happened? You and Lagus should have been far away from the fire."

"The Mitanni cut off our escape," Tutankhamun explained, "We had no choice but to double back."

"And expose yourself to the fire _I_ started," Suhad concluded grimly, "How many people perished this night due to my actions?"

Tutankhamun gently took hold of her chin and nudged her to look at him. "Do not beat yourself up with guilt for this, my love. It was our plan together...and it worked. Whatever blood that was shed tonight is upon _both_ of our hands."

"Should that provide me with comfort?"

"I would kill a thousand men, Suhad, if it meant keeping you from harm."

Suhad nestled into his waiting embrace, sighing in contentment when he held her fast against him. "As I would for you, my love."

They were snuggling comfortably before the fire when a freshly bathed and shaven Lagus returned to the camp. Sensing the commander's anxious desire to speak with his pharaoh alone, Suhad scooted from Tutankhamun's arms and rolled to her feet. "I think I shall have a bath as well," she announced before adding in a lower tone just for Tutankhamun, "You may join me when you have concluded here." Tutankhamun had a difficult time repressing his answering grin as she walked away. Both he and Lagus watched her departure in mutually admiring silence though for very different reasons.

"Suhad is quite an exceptional woman," the commander remarked casually.

A little _too_ casually and Tutankhamun picked up on that instantly. "I agree. She is _beyond_ exceptional and yet it seems to me that you are prefacing that observation. So, what is it?" He appraised Lagus with an expectant glance. "Speak your mind freely."

"I fear that Suhad may prove to be a distraction for you during this most unstable time."

Although he had invited Lagus' candor Tutankhamun still found himself growing irritated with the commander's words. His first instinct was to flood Lagus with endless arguments as to why he was wrong or even chastise him for making the statement at all, but Tutankhamun realized doing so would be counterproductive. He wanted to encourage Lagus' honesty with him, not stifle it. That would only happen if he was willing to listen to older man's counsel, even when it galled him to do so. He knotted his jaw in obvious displeasure over the frank observation but otherwise remained silent, granting Lagus his tacit permission to continue.

"General Horemheb and Ka have already maneuvered against you," Lagus told him, "You cannot show them any vulnerability as they have already proven that they are not bound by sentiment."

"I know that."

"And do you know you will likely have to regain your kingdom by force and that the asking price will be both Ka and the general's blood?"

"I know that as well. I came to that unpleasant conclusion weeks ago."

"General Horemheb has a great deal of popularity with the people and there is likely to be unrest with his execution," Lagus continued wisely, "In addition to that, we cannot be sure that Ka and the general were working independently in their schemes against you. No one can be trusted at this time. The number of conspirators within your palace is yet to be determined. We have no idea how deeply this treachery has fomented. A purging will need to occur and very quickly. You cannot afford to have your attention diverted, my lord."

"Suhad is no mere dalliance," Tutankhamun bit out, "I am not using her for distraction. She is with me because I want her with me, because she has become a part of me."

"And that is _exactly_ my point, my lord," Lagus intoned softly, "It is plain to see how deeply you care for her, dare I even to suggest, _love_ her. I could see it the moment you both laid eyes on one another and your enemies will be able to see it as well. I have no doubts that they will use her as a means to control and manipulate you and your people."

"How could anyone use Suhad to manipulate the people? She saved my life and risked herself on behalf of all Egypt! She will be a hero to them all!"

"Suhad is part _Mitanni_ , my lord, and we are at war with the Mitanni."

Tutankhamun leveled him with a steely glare. "Suhad is _Egyptian_ , Lagus, and she is loyal to her pharaoh...she is loyal to _me_."

"I meant no offense towards her, my king. She is extraordinary and fearless and I can see quite easily why you are taken with her." Only when the young pharaoh began to relax his rigid stance did Lagus continue. "Your enemies will not care that she saved your life and fought on behalf of Egypt. They will use her mixed heritage to make it look as if you are colluding with the enemy. They will use it to their advantage and try to turn your people away from you."

"So then what are you proposing?"

"You must take her back to Amurru where she will be safe."

Tutankhamun wasn't surprised by the suggestion but he groaned nonetheless, his features contorting in a rare display of vulnerability. In that instant, he looked to Lagus every inch the nineteen year old boy that he was. "I cannot," he mumbled hoarsely, "I recognize the wisdom in what you have said and I even agree with you that she would be safer in her village, but I _cannot_ be without her." He regarded Lagus with glistening eyes. "Do you understand?"

The commander jerked a terse nod. "I suspected you might say as much."

"And you don't approve," Tutankhamun concluded in a grim tone.

"I fear for her," Lagus clarified, "and for you, my lord. These times are critical and dangerous and, in being together, you both walk a very tenuous line. But...I stand with you no matter what. Suhad has obviously gained both your loyalty and trust and I have no reservations that it was well earned. Therefore, she has earned my loyalty and trust as well. I will protect her with my life, just as I will protect you."

Tutankhamun reached up to squeeze his shoulder briefly in a show of gratitude. "Thank you, my friend."

Later, as he set off to join Suhad, Tutankhamun did not find himself as comforted by Lagus' last reassurance as he had hoped he would be. Instead, he found himself turning over Lagus' warning words again and again in his mind and considering the veracity of his statements, despite his firm resolve to do the opposite of what the seasoned commander had suggested. However, Tutankhamun could not completely banish the nagging worry that his decision to disregard Lagus' caution was the wrong one.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten**

There was a feeling of all encompassing dread that overwhelmed Suhad when she, Lagus and Tutankhamun finally entered Thebes three days later under the cover of darkness. They were able to slip into the city relatively undetected due to the raucous celebration taking place in honor of the queen's impending nuptials. No one seemed to notice them at all and yet Suhad could not shake the uneasiness she felt. As they passed under the threshold of the gate, she was smacked with the foreboding premonition that once she entered the walls of that great city she would never again leave it. The thought caused a freezing chill to run through Suhad's entire body.

Feeling her shiver beside him, Tutankhamun wordlessly shrugged from his outer robe and draped it across her shoulders with a tender smile. Suhad smiled back at him and in the darkness Tutankhamun couldn't quite see that the smile did not reach her eyes. But she needn't have worried about his detecting the subtle shift in her mood right then. He was already pulling his hood more securely around his face and turning his attention back to Lagus, who was just a few feet ahead of them, clearly preoccupied with what lay ahead for him. She was glad for his distraction. Tutankhamun had enough weighty matters to consume his mind. Suhad had no desire to compound his burden by voicing aloud her sudden inexplicable misgivings.

As they trailed behind Lagus through the billowing crowds congesting the streets, Suhad reached down between herself and Tutankhamun to grope for his hand. She gave his slender fingers a brief squeeze. "Are you worried about tomorrow?" she asked him.

"Not worried. Anxious. I'm beyond ready for this all to be over."

Tutankhamun was understandably tense. He was back in the city surrounded by people who held the appearance of being loyal to him but were all the while seeking his demise. Naturally then, he was more than a little mistrustful and extremely reluctant to place his faith in people he had not interacted with on a personal basis. Which is why the plan Lagus had proposed for them had required an incredible leap of faith on Tutankhamun's part.

Suhad instinctively discerned his silent musing and did what she could to comfort him with her nearness and silent support. According to Lagus, he knew a man whom they could trust, one who would house them for the night so that they could be refreshed and ready when they infiltrated the palace the following morning. She knew without Tutankhamun saying a word that the idea of yet another person being let in on his secret made him extremely fretful. His one advantage in this entire situation was that he had the element of surprise on his side. Were Ka and the general to learn of his presence too early his life, and Suhad's by association, could very well be in danger.

Lagus was more than aware of what his young king stood to lose and Suhad knew that he was determined to keep Tutankhamun safe. She diligently reminded Tutankhamun of those things, pointing out to him that Lagus would never even consider taking them to someone who did not have his full confidence. Her conviction on the matter helped to settle Tutankhamun's heart a bit, though he continued to remain on edge, growing more and more agitated as they ventured deeper into the city.

"Nefekare lives just beyond this square, my lord," Lagus informed them after they had been walking for nearly twenty minutes, "He knows that I require his aid on a pertinent matter but not the details. He does not know that you are with me."

"Will that be a problem?" Tutankhamun wondered in growing apprehension.

"There is no need for you to be anxious," Lagus murmured in reassurance, "Like me, Nefekare was ambivalent towards the Pharaoh. He believed, as we all did, that you were merely a boy, a puppet king being used by those closest to you. However, when he learned that you were the one who had been accompanying us on the Mitanni raids, his opinion of the pharaoh changed...as did mine."

"But you did not tell him that I live?"

"For fear he might inadvertently risk our return by revealing something pertinent," Lagus said, "It was for his protection and for yours. He knows only that I live and that I am coming to see him and that, for now, that truth should remain between us."

Suhad and Tutankhamun traded nervous glances. "Do you think he will help us once he does know?" she asked.

They both expelled a sigh of relief with Lagus' resolute nod. "I do not doubt it."

Nefekare was clearly anticipating Lagus' arrival because, when they arrived at his house, Lagus barely knocked on the door before it was flung open and he was yanked into his friend's hearty embrace. It was disconcerting to witness because Nefekare was no small man. He did not quite possess the imposing height of General Horemheb but he had the girth and muscle to make up for that fact. Tutankhamun didn't doubt that Nefekare could snap a man in two with his bare hands if he so wished to do so but, at present, he seemed more like an ordinary man greeting a long-lost friend than a fierce warrior.

"My friend!" Nefekare exclaimed in a booming voice, lifting Lagus completely from the ground as he clapped him on the back jovially, "You have returned from the land of the dead! May the gods be praised!"

"Not exactly the land of the dead," Lagus laughed when he regained his footing, "more like the sodden dregs of the Mitanni capital but I suppose given the circumstances it's an accurate comparison."

Nefekare threw back his head with a loud laugh. "You've not changed a bit. I have missed you, Lagus." He sobered a bit when he asked, "What of the others? Were they able to return with you?"

Lagus shook his head sadly. "Only I survived. The Mitanni take a great deal of pleasure in breaking the spirit of their enemy."

"But you've managed to outwit them," Nefekare reminded him, "and that is cause for celebration, so why the secrecy surrounding your miraculous return, my friend? The men will be pleased to learn that you still breathe."

"Matters are...complicated," Lagus replied, stepping aside to reveal Tutankhamun and Suhad standing a few feet behind him. Tutankhamun slowly pushed back his hood, revealing his face to Nefekare. The man's eyes flared wide with disbelief.

"My lord!" he exclaimed, immediately falling to his knees to do obeisance to his king.

Tutankhamun cast an anxious glance around them and made a reflexive grab for Suhad's hand, as if seeking her support in that moment. "You may rise," he granted Nefekare quickly, "Let us not draw undue attention to ourselves."

Nefekare quickly stumbled to his feet, bouncing incredulous glances between his pharaoh and his friend. "How can this be? We were all told that you fell in the Mitanni battle! The entire kingdom believes you are dead!"

"Come, my friend," Lagus replied, "Let us explain it fully to you inside, away from prying eyes."

An hour later, Nefekare was reeling from their tale of political intrigue, veering wildly between disbelief and disgust over the actions of a man he had so greatly admired. Once he had learned the truth, there was no hesitation on Nefekare's part to fulfill whatever requests Tutankhamun and Lagus made of him. "To think General Horemheb could be capable of such treasonous acts," he muttered, "Did he not fear the wrath of the gods?"

"It's not wrath from the gods that he should fear," Tutankhamun intoned, his words filled with ominous promise. And then he softened, regarding Nefekare with a look of earnest gratitude. "Your loyalty this night will not be forgotten. The number of people I can trust these days, sadly, are present only in this room...but I am happy to count you among them."

"You are deserving of nothing less, my king. How you fought with us during the Mitanni battle and even before, when we made the raids along the borders, you have earned my unending respect," Nefekare said, "I would not hesitate to give my life on behalf of yours."

"Thank you, my friend. Hopefully it won't have to come to that," Tutankhamun murmured.

Despite their protests, Nefekare insisted that Tutankhamun and Suhad share his chamber in the upper part of the house while he and Lagus remained down below near the fire. Suhad scurried beneath the blankets and watched silently as Tutankhamun readied himself for bed. When he became aware of her scrutiny, he quickly finished stripping off his outer garment before climbing into the soft, straw bed and settling down beside her. Afterwards, he favored her with a soft smile.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked once she had settled into her usual spot against his side.

"I was merely marveling over how easily you've slipped back into your role as Pharaoh."

He choked back a wry chuckle. "I wasn't aware that I had ever slipped _out_ of it."

"You carry yourself as a king and you are treated as such."

"That is my birthright, Suhad, and it is an inescapable fact now that I have returned to Thebes. But, regardless, I am the same man I was yesterday."

"No, it's different here," she whispered, her words taking on a gloomy edge as she added, " _You're_ different here."

At her tone, Tutankhamun shifted around in the bed so that they were lying face to face in the flickering torchlight. "Suhad, _nothing_ is going to change between us." When her eyes skittered away in tacit denial of that, he leaned forward to kiss her, gently brushing her lips with his own again and again until she finally responded to him. "You have nothing to fear, my love," he murmured against her ear, "Do you not yet realize that the gods are with us?"

She emitted a teary laugh that was part disdainful, part amused. "The gods? Really? That is to be your argument?"

"Think about how you found me in the riverbed," he argued fervently, "I should have died and yet I did not. Think about the success we had in the Mitanni capital when we had all odds against us. We should not have escaped them and yet we did. And further think about how we have arrived in Thebes on the very eve of Ka and Ankhesenamun's nuptials. The timing could not be more perfect, as if it had been _designed_. The gods grant us much favor, Suhad, and I truly believe it is because we are meant to be together. _This_ is the path they have chosen for us."

Suhad fingered his lower lip pensively before lifting brown eyes filled with uncertainty to his unwavering ones. "I wish I shared your faith."

"Do not trouble yourself, my love. I have enough for the both of us." He kissed her again, his heart swelling anew when she returned the kiss without hesitation. "I love you," he whispered against her lips, "There is nothing that can come between us."

"I know that you love me, Khaten, as I love you. Forgive my uncertainties. I think I am saddened because I know that this is the last night that I will have you to myself. Tomorrow, I must share you with all of Egypt."

"Then let us put tomorrow out of our minds completely," he murmured as he pulled her closer, "Tonight, I am all yours..."

The next morning, Tutankhamun, Suhad and Lagus rose well before dawn and left Nefekare's house just as the night sky was beginning to open up with wide, ocher streaks of daybreak in order to make their way towards the underground tunnels that would lead them directly into the palace throne room. They deliberately chose the time they did, though it was hours before the wedding was due to take place, in the hopes that there would be less people on the street and less chance of attracting less attention to themselves. Along their journey back through the high desert, Tutankhamun had briefly explained to them how he had used those same tunnels to sneak out of the palace night after night for nearly a two month period. Consequently, he was very familiar with the winding paths and was able to quickly navigate the three of them into the heart of the palace.

Except for the few, bustling servants who were busy making preparations for their queen's wedding, the throne room was hauntingly empty. Suhad tried not to be overwhelmed by the opulence and grandeur of the gleaming gold and intricate artistry that surrounded her but it was difficult not to feel out of place. Tutankhamun, on the other hand, was clearly in his element. When the room was clear, he approached the throne without hesitancy, running his fingers along the polished edges of the armrest before taking his rightful seat upon it. Even dressed in the garb of a commoner, his face and body littered with bruises and scars in various stages of healing and his dark hair secured in a messy top knot, he looked as if he belonged in that sacred seat. He looked every inch a king.

"What do we do now, my lord?" Lagus asked him.

Tutankhamun's features settled into an impassive mask as he replied, "Now we wait for an opportune time."

That opportune time began making its swift approach a little more than an hour later as the throne room gradually filled with guests and attendants for the queen's wedding. Tutankhamun, Lagus and Suhad kept themselves carefully concealed behind a heavy, ancient tapestry, rigid with tension and breaths suspended as they awaited the start of the ceremony. No formal plan had been made for the moment when Tutankhamun revealed himself but neither Lagus nor Suhad doubted that, when he did so, the execution would prove explosive.

From his hiding place, Tutankhamun listened intently to the chatter of the circulating guests in an attempt to ferret out who among them had taken part in the conspiracy against him. For the most part, the consensus among the gossiping guests seemed to be the belief that Ka would prove to be merely a figurehead as Pharaoh. It would truly be General Horemheb who ruled Egypt from behind the scenes. Ka would merely serve as his unwitting puppet. That Ka should become the very thing for which he had repeatedly scorned Tutankhamun filled the young ruler with supreme satisfaction. The irony was sweet.

The moment to reveal himself finally arrived after the bride and groom had made their way to the alter before the high priest Amun. As the holy man whipped himself up into a gyrating, righteous frenzy over the benevolence and power of their great gods and the glory that had been bestowed upon Egypt, Tutankhamun at last stepped out from the shadows and revealed himself to the high priest. He was only vaguely aware of Suhad and Lagus following behind him as the high priest's zealous monologue faltered. Tutankhamun met Amun's fearful stare squarely.

The high priest Amun choked out the last of his sentence, color draining from his incredulous features as he beheld a wrathful, and very much _alive_ , Tutankhamun standing before him. "God of gods and King of kings, he has risen," he uttered in stunned disbelief, "God of gods and King of kings, _he has risen again_!"

A stunned gasp reverberated out across the crowd of guests before descending into an eerie silence as Ankhesenamun slowly pivoted and regarded the face of her dead brother. "My brother," she gasped softly, as tears of disbelief and happiness filled her eyes, "You live! Gods! You really live!"

Ka, on the other hand, was a great deal more reluctant to face Tutankhamun and it was plain to see why once he did. Guilt was stamped all over his ashen features as he met Tutankhamun's glittering glare. "My friend," he choked in disbelief, "You still breathe. My heart swells to see you in health."

"He has been delivered back to us from the arms of Osiris!" Amun declared as he looked out among the stunned crowd, "Our Pharaoh has returned to us!"

Throughout the entirety of it all, Tutankhamun said nothing. In those moments, he was so overwhelmed with grief, revulsion and rage that he could scarcely speak. To see them all gathered together in his palace, in _his_ throne room...from his most trusted vizier Ay to the most humble handmaiden who prepared and cleaned their chambers, to honor the man who had left him for dead thoroughly nauseated him. He hated them all. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to rage against them in that instant, to sentence them all to the bleak fate Ka and Horemheb had intended for him. Instead, he continued to stand silent as everyone present began frantically backpedaling.

Ka darted an uncertain look towards Ankhesenamun before removing the crown from his head and extending it towards Tutankhamun without ceremony. "The celebration is yours, my friend," he said, "It is your rightful place." When Tutankhamun made no move to take the ancient diadem from his hands, Ka allowed the crown to drop from his hands. It landed against the polished stone floor with an echoing clank. "I meant no offense to you, only to carry on your legacy...in love and respect."

Tutankhamun forced a smile then, even as he struggled with the tears of anger and sorrow that threatened to overwhelm him, and held his arms out to Ka. "Come, my friend," he invited thickly, beckoning Ka closer, "Let there be peace between us."

Wary, but relieved by Tutankhamun's composed acceptance of the situation, Ka took a few tentative steps forward and allowed himself to be folded in his friend's light embrace. As Tutankhamun drew near to his ear, he whispered, "I know very well who you are, Ka. You are _not_ my friend. You...are a _betrayer_." Ka reared back in stunned dismay, trembling anew when he attempted to take a step back and Tutankhamun's grip on him tightened. "Fate is not what you are given," he told Ka in a trembling tone, "It is what you take!"

Before Ka even had a moment to discern what he meant by those words, Tutankhamun quickly took hold of the dagger at Ka's waist and plunged it deep into Ka's body, twisting the blade and yanking it up deliberately once it sank into his flesh. Ankhesenamun's piercing scream of horror split the stunned quiet, provoking the guests into a pandemonium of fear, drowning out the clattering sound the dagger made against the floor when Tutankhamun dropped it.

"You were once my brother, Ka," he whispered mournfully as the fatally injured Ka slid from his arms, "I loved you."

A wildly weeping Ankhesenamun was at Ka's side before he had even crumpled to the floor completely. She glared at her brother in destroyed grief as she gathered a dying Ka against her. "Have you gone mad? What have you done? _What have you done?_ " But Tutankhamun had no answer for her. He was still in shock, unable to speak and acutely aware of the warmth of Ka's blood cooling on his hands and clothing.

Disgusted by his lack of response, Ankhesenamun threw a desperate look at Ay, the trusted vizier who had raised both she and her brother from the time they were children. "What are you doing?" she cried, "Don't just stand there like a wooden fool! Get the physician, curse you! Can you not see he's dying?"

Ay, however, could not move, not when his pharaoh was regarding him in the same predatory manner in which he had regarded Ka moments before. He could not be certain that he would not suffer a similar fate as Ka had. Registering the queen's hysterical weeping only on the periphery of his consciousness and without ever taking his eyes off of his pharaoh, Ay deliberately stooped to the ground and retrieved the fallen crown. He extended it towards a traumatized Tutankhamun much the way Ka had done earlier, his breath suspended in anxious anticipation of what the young ruler would do next.

"Take it and place it upon your head," he urged softly, "It is your birthright, the inevitable conclusion to what you have started here this day, my boy...just as it has always been."

After what seemed to be an indefinite interim of indecision, Tutankhamun finally stretched forward his shaky hands and took hold of the crown, placing it on his head just as Ay had instructed him. The wizened vizier offered him a tremulous smile of commendation, his relief at being spared his life palpable to all present. "Now, Pharaoh Tutankhamun, my king, address your people."


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

The minutes following Tutankhamun's dramatic return to the throne were tumultuous. At first, Lagus and Suhad were ignored for the most part while all present tried to make sense of what had just occurred and the queen mourned in anguish as Ka slipped into the afterlife while cradled in her arms. Once some of the chaos had begun to die down and Ka's body was removed from the queen's rigid grip, however, the questions began. _Where had Lagus been this entire time? Who was this girl? How had the Pharaoh survived and where had he been the entire time?_

Despite his determination to stay at Suhad's side, Lagus was inevitably detained by General Horemheb while Suhad herself was escorted to another room entirely, presumably to await the arrival of Vizier Ay and his cross examination. No explanation was given as she was shut into the room and ordered to remain there until further notice. Suhad had never been particularly good at following orders but she stayed, not out of obedience, but out of worry for Tutankhamun. She paced in anxious circles around the room, barely acknowledging the presence of the slave girl stationed in the corner of the room as she struggled to come to grips with all she had just witnessed.

It was a side of Tutankhamun that she had never seen. The seeming cold detachment with which he had disposed of his childhood friend left Suhad quaking with uneasiness. In those few, stunning moments, he had been like a stranger to her. She had not even recognized him. She was not only left unsettled by his unexpected attack on Ka but also by how easily Tutankhamun had followed the vizier's counsel when it was all said and done. Suhad wasn't certain if Tutankhamun had reacted as he had due to the shock or if the vizier truly exercised that much control over him. She was still agonizing over those unanswered questions when the door suddenly swung wide.

Suhad whirled around, preparing herself to face the manipulative vizier. She was surprised to find Tutankhamun standing there instead, wearing the most haunted expression she had ever witnessed, crown upon his head and still soaked in his friend's blood. With the picture he made, Suhad might have hesitated in going to him altogether but then his blank features crumpled in dismayed suffering and she found herself closing the distance between them. Without even thinking about it, she removed his headpiece and set it aside before gathering his heaving body into her arms, impervious to the bloody mess staining her clothes when she did. He gripped her in a vise-like hold, buried his face in her shoulder and sobbed brokenly.

"I didn't know I would do it then," he wept, "not until I saw him standing there. I loved him. He was my friend. He was my brother. I loved him..."

She crooned sweet words of comfort into his hair, crying with him, helpless to ease the pain that was lacerating his heart. "You did what you felt you must..." she whispered gruffly.

As if suddenly becoming aware of the fact that he was falling apart, Tutankhamun's swallowed back his remaining sobs with a sharp intake of breath. He pulled back to survey her with wet eyes filled with anxiety and some vestiges of shame. "Do you despise me for what I did?"

Suhad framed his face in her hands and kissed him tenderly. "No...I could never."

"But you _were_ shocked," he ascertained quietly.

"I've seen you kill me before," she acknowledged, "But your actions were always motivated by a sense of justice, I believe. This...in the throne room just now...it felt more like vengeance than the righting of a wrong that had been committed."

"Perhaps it was a bit of both," he murmured, noting how she trembled against him with the reply. "Do you fear me now, Suhad?"

"I...I don't know. Honestly, I don't know who that man was in there."

"Nor do I," he confessed thickly, "It was as if something came over me. I saw him as I did that day he left me on the field, crouching above me, discussing with Horemheb whether or not they should finish me off as if I meant nothing, _was_ nothing to him. When I saw him today, I simply wanted him to hurt him as he had hurt me. I couldn't think beyond it."

He started to say more when a muted whimper sounded from the corner of the room, belatedly reminding Tutankhamun and Suhad that they were not alone. Suhad fidgeted in discomfort while Tutankhamun glared at the cowering slave girl. "Leave us now," he commanded, "And do not speak a word of what you've seen here to anyone. Should I hear the gossip circulating, I will know the one who spoke out of turn and I will deal with you accordingly. Do you understand?"

The girl bobbed an anxious nod, eyes respectfully downcast as she scurried for the door. "Yes, my lord." When he turned back to face Suhad after the girl had gone he found her regarding him with disapproving eyes. "What is it?"

"Was that necessary? She was stationed here by _your_ vizier and not by her own design! You very nearly frightened her to death!"

"My palace is overrun with betrayers and liars and those who seek to _kill_ me. I cannot afford to be vulnerable to my enemies, Suhad."

Suhad softened when she heard the hopelessness buried deep within his angry rebuttal. "No wonder you're filled with such tension. You don't feel as if you can trust anyone, do you?"

"I trust you and I trust Lagus."

"But the people in your royal house...your sister, your vizier, your general and your court..."

"...cannot be trusted at all...and I must deal with them accordingly."

"What will you do?"

"There are matters which require my attention today," he told her, "They cannot wait. I did not want to leave you unattended for so long without explanation."

"I can make myself scarce for a while, explore the city. Or...I am sure Nefekare would welcome me for a few hours," Suhad offered helplessly, "I feel as if I'm in the way here..."

"No! You cannot leave!" Tutankhamun swept up her hands in a fervent hold, softening the edict with a fervid entreaty. "Please, Suhad. I want you to stay here," he insisted, "I'll have you shown to my bedchamber and you can wait there. When I have concluded my business then I will join you."

She wasn't at all comfortable with the idea of waiting for him in his bedchamber because acutely aware of the message it would send to everyone. She had been within his palace less than a day and already the whispers and conjecture about what they were or were not to each other had begun. Suhad could only imagine that what was being said about her was less than flattering and would become more unflattering should be escorted to his chambers. However, she could also well discern that Tutankhamun's hold on his self-control was tenuous at best. He was a veritable powder keg poised for explosion. If having her near to him would allow him to keep his composure then her waiting for him in his bedchamber was a small request to fulfill.

As she was escorted into his inner sanctum, Suhad should have been prepared for the lavishness she would find there but her breath still caught when she saw the gleaming gold, expensive, polished wood and intricate artwork that decorated Tutankhamun's chamber. At the center of the room was a huge bed situated on a raised platform with a coiling, gold frame, bedecked in gold colored sheets and fine, crushed linen. Situated near the foot of the bed were several articles of flimsy nightwear carefully laid out and a platter of fruit, two bejeweled goblets and a jug of wine.

It became readily apparent to Suhad that the chamber had been prepared in advance for Ka and Ankhesenamun's wedding night. It galled her to think that the man who had left Tutankhamun for dead would consummate his marriage to his ill-gotten bride in his victim's own bed. And if _she_ was disgusted by that knowledge, she could only imagine how Tutankhamun would react...

"Could one of you possibly help me clear these things out of here?" she timidly asked the servants on standby near the entrance. She ignored the way they both snapped to guilty attention when she approached them. "This room should be prepared for the pharaoh's homecoming."

One girl, the one Tutankhamun had chastised earlier, sprang into action, her eyes lowered diffidently as she scurried past Suhad. "Yes, my lady."

"My lady?" Suhad muttered to herself, frowning a little over the title and wondering exactly when and what she'd done to deserve being addressed as such. She was still obsessing over it several hours later when Lagus arrived. Suhad sprang up from her perch at the window to greet him. She reflexively threw her arms about him before she could think better of it, hugging him tightly.

"Thank the gods you've arrived! I've been dying for a familiar face. This place is a madhouse!"

"And it will remain a madhouse for some time to come," Lagus warned her, "Keep your eyes open and your mouth closed. There is no one to be trusted here, Suhad."

She attempted to lighten his ominous caution with levity. "You mean besides you?" she wondered wryly, "Or should I not trust you either?"

Lagus _almost_ cracked a smile, but somehow managed to maintain his impersonal demeanor. "You know what I mean."

"I do," Suhad acknowledged before mirroring Lagus' somber expression. "So...what message has he sent for me?"

"How did you discern that I was here at his behest?"

"It's practically become a tradition among the three of us, wouldn't you agree?"

That time Lagus wasn't quite as successful at completely suppressing his smile. "I am to determine if you are getting on well and also to reassure you that he will join you as soon as he is able."

"Besides reeling over what transpired this morning, I'm quite well," Suhad quipped sardonically. She surveyed Lagus with eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Did you have any inkling that he would do what he did today?" she demanded, "Did you encourage it?"

"I knew that the general and Ka were slated for death but I was as surprised by his actions this morning as you. I suspect that the Pharaoh was surprised as well. It was not planned, if that is your suspicion."

"He already told me that it was not, but... I don't know quite what to make of him," Suhad muttered, "This wretched place is already chipping away at the man I've come to know and it hasn't even been a full day yet!"

"Do not judge him too harshly, Suhad. You have no idea the weight that is upon him now...but you will. In time, you will understand all too well."

After Lagus left, Suhad found herself ruminating on his parting words to her. The military commander had been quite candid about his misgivings where her presence in Thebes was concerned. While Lagus had made it clear to both her and Tutankhamun that he did not begrudge their desire to be together, he worried that they might be setting themselves up against overwhelming odds in the capital. His parting words confirmed to Suhad that his feelings on the matter had not changed. Lagus clearly believed that she and Tutankhamun had yet to face the worst. _This_ was only the beginning.

That initial feeling of apprehension that she'd felt upon entering Thebes returned with a vengeance. It was an ominous sense that settled in the pit of her belly and took up permanent residence. For the first time since she had made her decision to accompany Tutankhamun to Thebes, Suhad grimly considered the possibility that she might have taken on much more than she could handle.

The sun had long since set by the time Tutankhamun finally made his appearance. At the sound of his footfalls, Suhad jerked upright on the bed to greet him. However, the words died in her throat the instant she beheld him.

For the second time that day Suhad found herself shocked into speechlessness by his appearance. Gone was the blood stained garb she had seen him in earlier. That had been replaced by fine, gathered white linen overlaid with a striped blue and tan sleeveless coat adorned with refined gold and gleaming, precious stones. His unkempt top knot, which she had grown to adore, had been tamed into dark waves that were pulled back from his face and allowed to cascade down the back of his neck. Even his eyes seemed different, now adorned with the dark kohl that made them seem even more enigmatic than usual. It was at that moment that it truly sank in for Suhad that Tutankhamun _was_ Pharaoh...and that was not going to change.

After spending several moments attempting to compose herself, Suhad finally said, "You've been gone most of the day. I thought perhaps you had forgotten about me."

"An impossible task, I assure you." He smiled at her, disappointed when she did not smile back. "Are you angry with me?"

Suhad shook away the mental fog that had settled over her as she took in his appearance, her demeanor becoming stony in spite of her next words to him. "No. I'm not angry. Not at all."

"Then why will you not meet my eyes? You seem irritable."

"It's been a very exhausting day," she replied vaguely, "I'm tired and I'm confused and, honestly, I don't know what to expect from you."

Tutankhamun frowned as he ascended the dais steps to meet her. "I don't understand what you mean."

Suhad swung around on the bed to face him directly. "Then allow me to clarify...you say one thing and then do another! You ask me to stay here and then you ignore me for the better part of the day! You send Lagus to me with warnings not to trust anyone, but then you leave me to my own devices in a palace full of people whispering behind their hands about me! You've been different ever since we came back here! You've been distant and cold and I don't think I know who you are anymore!"

Rather than being put off by her impassioned rant, Tutankhamun was oddly inflamed by it. Without warning, he stepped closer and cradled Suhad's face in his hands, sealing his mouth to hers in a kiss filled with fervent hunger. Suhad bunched her fingers into the front of his linen tunic, as if she meant to shove him away but instead she pulled him closer, seeming to need the contact as much as he did. She responded to his ardor with a hushed whimper, kissing him back with equal fervor.

"Do I kiss differently to you, Suhad?" he whispered when they parted. Breathless, Suhad gave a wordless shake of her head. He swept up her hand and placed it upon his chest, just above his wildly thumping heart, his dark eyes intent and probing as he asked, "Do I feel differently to you?"

After a rough swallow, Suhad managed to answer hoarsely, "No."

He stroked his fingers down the curve of her shoulder, raising fine gooseflesh there before replacing his fingers with his lips. Suhad lost the fight to keep her eyes open as he nibbled his way across her collarbone, his hands slipping down to her thighs to gather up the length of her skirt. When she was finally unencumbered he parted her legs and stepped between them all without ever taking his mouth from her body.

"Does my touch feel the same?" he whispered against her skin. Suhad's answer was a serrated moan. He eased her back into the bed then and followed her down. "If you've forgotten who I am, my love, then perhaps you are in need of a reminder..."

She was dozing lightly next to him an hour later while he stroked his hand along the length of her naked back when he whispered an apology to her. Suhad lifted her head to peer at him with a sleepy, confused frown. "Why are you apologizing?"

"You were right when you accused me before," he admitted, "I have been distant and cold, but it was never my intention to be so. I thought I would gain some satisfaction once I returned here, but all I can feel is anger and unease. I am unable to trust those in my own house and it sickens me."

Suhad threaded her fingers through the soft hair at his temples. "Oh, my love, you have endured too much pain."

Tutankhamun swept up her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back firmly. "I have you, Suhad. You soothe all the pain. But Ankhesenamun...there is no soothing for her. She grieves deeply for Ka. I do not expect that she will ever forgive me."

"And that saddens you."

"In part, yes, it does. We have never had this type of discord between us. I do not want her to hate me. But then there is the part of me that is infuriated with her...for being so naive, for siding with the man who left me to rot!" Tutankhamun grunted humorlessly. "And then there is the honorable General Horemheb, who made it quite clear that he has neither fear nor loyalty nor respect for me. I am but a boy king, he says, who rules from behind other men."

"His words will mean nothing, Khaten," Suhad told him fiercely, " _not_ if you prove him a liar."

He tipped a wry glance down at her. "And how will I do that?"

"I've told you before...you become the great pharaoh that you are destined to become. That is how you take vengeance upon the general and all who are like him."

Heartened by her words, Tutankhamun pulled Suhad into a tight embrace. "I am so glad you are here. I cannot imagine what I would do without you." He nestled his face into the warm crook of her neck. "We should sleep. The hour grows late and the day has been long."

Suhad reared back a bit in surprise. "In here? You wish for me to sleep in here? _With you_?"

He surveyed her with a bewildered frown. "Where else would you sleep?"

Her expression clearly stated that he should well know the answer to that question. "Do you have any idea what is being said about us?" she whispered, "About _me_?"

"Of course, I do. They are all speculating as to whether or not you and I are lovers." Tutankhamun shrugged. "There is no cause for speculation. We _are_ lovers."

Suhad buried her burning face in the crook of his neck. "Yes, I know that," she groaned, "but must we be so obvious about it?"

"I'm afraid your unrestrained cries of pleasure rendered that question moot a short while ago." Suhad groaned again, this time pinching Tutankhamun's flank for his laughing impertinence. "You're completely shameless," she grunted into his shoulder, "I don't know what I'm going to do with you." He chuckled at her girlish reaction, feeling happier in that moment than he had felt all day. He pressed a sound kiss to her forehead.

"I want you here with me, Suhad, in my chamber and in my bed but, I will not force the issue if it causes you discomfort. If you would prefer to have your own space then I will provide it for you."

She peeked at him from beneath her lashes. "I think that might be best."

"Then it shall be arranged in the morning," Tutankhamun decreed, "But _tonight_...I wish for you to remain here with me. I want to hold you. Have I your permission to do that?"

Suhad favored him with an adoring smile, happily snuggling back into the circle of his arms. "Yes. Always."


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve**

From her perch in the windowsill of her bedchamber, Suhad watched Tutankhamun as he walked about in the courtyard below escorted by his vizier Ay with a mixture of love, despondency and longing. It had been eight weeks since she had come to Thebes and the stay there had been much like she had expected. She had allowed her happiness over the prospect of spending more time with Tutankhamun crowd out the nagging doubts that lingered. However, as time wore on, Suhad was beginning to see the challenges that clearly loomed before them.

In the very beginning, Suhad had been so taken with watching him become the pharaoh that she knew he wanted to be, the one she had always known he'd become, that nothing else had mattered. Naturally then, her love for him, which already felt all-consuming, only deepened all the more. For those first two weeks after Tutankhamun had reclaimed his rightful place as Pharaoh, all had seemed nearly perfect. She had not held his undivided attention, of course, and she hadn't expected that. It was enough to know that she occupied most of his thoughts. In those early days, it was abundantly clear that he was so distracted by the excitement of being with her that he paid attention to little else. Vizier Ay had chastised him again and again for his lack of focus.

But then, eventually, the duties that were entrusted to him as Pharaoh of Egypt gradually began to crowd out the time they had to spend together. If he was not dealing with the unrest that had stirred up with General Horemheb's impending execution then he was preoccupied with the Mitanni's continued encroachment on the Egyptian border and the growing support they were gaining from surrounding nations who coveted the Nile just as they did. That fact only further tied his hands when it came to seeing Horemheb executed for his treason. There was also news of an illness that was spreading throughout the rural villages of Egypt and decimating the populations there.

Tutankhamun had an overwhelming amount of responsibility with which to contend. Suhad was not ignorant of his struggles and she empathized with him. Still, she could not pretend that it didn't crush her a little when, what little time she did have with him, was stolen away by his vizier or his advisors whenever some new crisis developed. She was progressively coming to feel very isolated and alone, a fact that she kept from Tutankhamun. Because the times they had to be alone had become so few and far between, Suhad was absolutely determined not to disrupt the atmosphere between them with negativity. So, she suffered in silence, which only exacerbated her growing despair.

To further add insult to injury, when he was away from her attending to royal matters, Tutankhamun often spent that time in Ankhesenamun's company. While Suhad understood that their proximity was necessitated by their mutual interests in kingdom affairs, it still galled her that Ankhesenamun had the opportunity to see Tutankhamun more than she did. Further galling was the insidious suspicion she held that the queen was more than aware of her feelings on the matter and did her utmost to worsen them.

In all that time she had been in the palace, Suhad had never spoken to the queen directly. They had seen one another mostly in passing without any direct exchange between them. However, Suhad was acutely aware of the other woman's presence just as she was sure Ankhesenamun was acutely aware of her own. It was inevitable that circumstances would become awkward and tense while they were both seeking to lay claim to the same man.

Unbeknownst to Tutankhamun, Suhad often watched his interactions with his sister from afar in an attempt to understand the strange connection between them. While he was very formal with her and, oftentimes, coolly reserved, Ankhesenamun, who inexplicably had decided to forgive him for Ka's death, was not at all hesitant in her interactions. She had no qualms about touching his face and neck or trailing her fingers across his collarbone in a decidedly intimate fashion.

From Suhad's perspective, it wasn't at all the way a sister would touch a brother. Yet, when she voiced her concerns to Tutankhamun he seemed rather dismissive of it. According to him, Ankhesenamun had grown accustomed to a certain level of intimacy between them and that was the reason she behaved as she did, not because she desired him. And, he had added, even if she did, he did not return those feelings. Suhad was the only woman he wanted.

Despite his reassurance, Suhad was not convinced that the queen's actions didn't lack some ulterior motive. Her woman's intuition told her that Ankhesenamun was being purposely manipulative. Suhad did not like how familiar Ankhesenamun was with him. She didn't like how the queen touched him or looked at him with that possessive manner she had. And Suhad knew with absolute certainty, though she had no concrete proof, that the queen behaved as she did deliberately, as if to send the message to Suhad that Tutankhamun was _hers_ and that he would always be hers.

Suhad's belly heaved and pitched with the thought and she scooted closer to the brass chamber-pot she kept at her hip just in case she lost her breakfast. She hovered over the container, taking deep, gulping breaths as she waited for the waves of nausea to pass. Only when she was absolutely sure she would not vomit, did Suhad wilt back against the windowsill, her slender frame shaking all over. She closed her eyes with an exhausted sigh, finally ready to tackle the unavoidable probability that she had been denying for days now.

She had not menstruated since before she found Tutankhamun in the riverbed. The expectation had been that it would come shortly after they arrived in Thebes but that first month had passed with nothing. At the time, Suhad hadn't been particularly alarmed. Her life was in a constant flux. She wasn't eating and sleeping properly due, at first, to her preoccupation with Tutankhamun and later to mounting stress. Suhad was well aware that all of those factors could affect the regularity of her menses and so, happy with a reprieve from the bloating and cramping, she had fully expected an appearance the following month.

It had not come, but the constant nausea had. At first, she'd merely felt queasy before breakfast and then it was _after_ breakfast _and_ with the mid-day meal _and_ then with supper too. She was nauseated when she ate and when she did not eat. In addition to that, she was inexplicably hungry all the time, constantly swinging between stuffing herself and then regurgitating after.

There were other things, in addition to her lack of menstruation, that Suhad noted as well. The heavy lethargy she felt throughout the day even when she had done nothing to warrant it. The newfound keenness to her sense of smell. The swollen sensitivity of her breasts. The darkening line that extended down from her sternum to just above her pubic bone. Suhad had assisted her mother as a mid-wife in several of the births within her village. She knew what it all meant.

She was going to have a child.

The realization should have made her happy and, on some level, it truly did. She and Tutankhamun had created a life together out of the love they shared. It was a profound realization and it made her feel even closer to him. Unfortunately, it also raised dozens of questions to which Suhad did not have the answers.

Tutankhamun was Pharaoh and she was of common blood. What would be her child's place within his world, if there was even a place for him or her at all? Would Tutankhamun even acknowledge their child as his heir? She knew that he had said that he wanted to marry her but she knew that would never change how those within the palace viewed her...as little more than the pharaoh's village whore. Suhad feared what impact that stigma could have on her child's future. Would her son or daughter be treated as the secret, half-breed bastard of the pharaoh among the very people who should be counted as family? Would she and Tutankhamun even be able to raise their child together? Suhad didn't know and it was those variable unknowns that caused her the most anxiety.

Feeling even more lost and defeated than she had at the onset, Suhad slid down from the windowsill and trudged over to her bed, curling herself into a ball directly in the center of it. She didn't know what she was going to do. She couldn't even bring herself to tell Tutankhamun. She convinced herself it was because he was already burdened with enough anxiety and she did not want to add to it. But, the truth of it was, she feared his rejection...not of her, but of their child. That was simply a prospect Suhad could not bear. She fell into a fitful sleep, still agonizing over how to proceed.

She found herself awakened a short time later by the sensation of soft, lingering kisses trailing down her arm. Her mouth curved with a faint, contented smile. She didn't need to open her eyes to confirm Tutankhamun's presence. She knew his touch well enough. Besides that, no one else would have been so bold as to enter her bedchamber. When her eyes finally did flutter open Suhad was not surprised to be greeting with his beaming countenance. To be presented with such a disarming smile made her heart literally ache in her chest.

As she had been doing for the last two hours, Suhad vacillated between telling him about her pregnancy then and holding her tongue altogether. In the end, she held her tongue and tried to assuage her guilt by offering him a sweet kiss. Tutankhamun rested his forehead against hers with a happy sigh.

"Good afternoon, my love," he murmured fondly, "How are you feeling? Did you sleep well?"

His greeting had Suhad shifting completely upright, her brows knitting in a confused scowl. "Afternoon?" she echoed, "I didn't sleep away the entire morning, did I?"

"I'm afraid you did. According to the servants, you haven't left your chambers since last night _and_ you've been ill for the last few days."

Suhad fixed him with a narrowed look. "Are you commissioning them to spy on me? I hadn't realized they reported my every move to you."

"It's not like that at all," he protested, easily smoothing past her rising ire, "I want to make sure that you're safe when I cannot be with you."

"Why wouldn't I be safe?" she wondered glumly, "I'm of no consequence to anyone here...except you."

"Is that why you've kept yourself shut away in here the better part of the day?"

"I'm very aware of what they say about me out there, Khaten," she muttered self-deprecatingly, "I simply wasn't in the mood to subject myself to it today."

"I will speak to them," he decreed, his jaw tightening, "I won't have you feel unwelcome here."

"Please do not intervene!" Suhad cried as if she feared his intention was to hop from the bed that very instant and make it so. "I have no desire to have phony consideration paid to me simply because the Pharaoh commanded it. If these people are to come to accept me then I want them to so do because I have earned it and not because you made them."

"It is not right that you should feel as an outcast, Suhad."

"Isn't it?" she countered wryly. "I told you when we first met that I could never been seen as a true Egyptian and I was right. I am the enemy here."

"No. You said that _the pharaoh_ would never see you as a true Egyptian and you were wrong," he told her firmly, "The fact is the pharaoh can think of few Egyptians who are more loyal than you."

Suhad flopped back into the bed with a dramatic sigh. "Perhaps that is because _the pharaoh_ is being driven by...ah...other motivations that typically involve he and his loyal subject wrapped in each other's arms while usually in a state of undress," she replied dryly.

Tutankhamun compressed his lips to keep from smiling at her. "You know it's more than that." When she merely grunted in response, he nudged against her hip with his hand. "Come now. Rise up. You need fresh air and sunshine to help you clear away all of this gloom!"

In answer, Suhad flipped over onto her stomach and buried her face in the soft mattress. "And what good will that accomplish?" she wondered, her words so muffled that he could barely understand her.

"Suhad, you need to expose yourself to something more than just these walls. It's not healthy," he whispered against her ear. And when her continued silence indicated stubborn refusal, he added in a cajoling tone, "Please, my love...come take a walk through the gardens with me."

Suhad was reluctant to admit that Tutankhamun had been right about exposing herself to fresh air and sunshine. Almost the instant she stepped out into the palace gardens with him she could feel the thick cloud of gloom that had descended upon her over the last week begin to lift. The change of venue did much to brighten her spirits but Tutankhamun's presence also played a large part in her improved mood. Her situation never looked quite as bleak when they were together.

They walked along together hand in hand while Tutankhamun told her the history behind each piece of architecture and monument they passed. Neither of them were aware of Ankhesenamun keenly watching their casual stroll from her private balcony. Suhad lay her head against Tutankhamun's shoulder, content in those moments simply to listen to him speak.

"One day," he remarked, "if I am deserving, perhaps my likeness might be found here among my ancestors as a testimony to my rule."

"Is that what you and Vizier Ay were discussing so intently earlier today?"

Tutankhamun angled an amused smile down at her. "Oh, so now which of us is being the spy?" he teased.

Suhad buried her face in his shoulder with a sputtered laugh. "I...I wasn't spying! I just happened to see you as I was standing at my window!"

He tsked at her. "The stories you tell, my love. Come now, don't be coy. It's perfectly natural that thoughts of me should consume your waking hours."

"With a head so large, it's quite amazing that it doesn't roll about precariously on your shoulders and that you manage to keep it perched just so."

Tutankhamun chuckled at her tart rebuttal but found himself sobering much too soon when he contemplated exactly what he and Ay _had_ discussed that morning. Immediately detecting the shift in his mood, Suhad peered up at him anxiously. "What is it?"

"The illness that everyone has been speaking of...it is spreading across the country unchecked," he explained grimly, "I've already quarantined those in the army who have succumbed to the sickness and restricted them to the barracks. However, there is a very real danger of this disease running rampant in Thebes if we do not intervene further. Ay believes that we should restrict access to the city."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, until this illness resolves itself, no one will be permitted to enter or leave Thebes without my express permission. And those who are granted permission will be screened and quarantined for several weeks before being allowed to pass beyond the gates."

"Is that really necessary?"

"My people live in very close quarters here. Were this illness to become unchecked in Thebes, it would be nothing short of devastating."

"But what of those who must trade in Thebes?" Suhad wondered, "For some, this is the only place they can find the goods they need to survive."

"I know that," Tutankhamun acknowledged, "But it cannot be helped. I must think about the inhabitants of this city first, Suhad."

"Of course, I understand," she mumbled in a tone that sadly indicated she did not.

"Your parents are well, if that is your primary concern," he reassured her. She jerked a sharp glance of surprise at him. "I sent word of your whereabouts to them weeks ago. They know that you are safe here and being well cared for."

"Yes...as the pharaoh's mistress. How my father must be brimming with pride."

He stopped short at the embittered sarcasm in her tone and pivoted to face her with a deep scowl, giving Suhad little choice but to stop as well. "Why must you continually trivialize what I feel for you?"

"I'm not doing that! But that is the reality of our situation, is it not? I share your bed while you are married to another! I am, for all intents, your _lover_ and nothing more!"

"No, you are not!" he insisted fiercely, "I did not bring you here to only to share my bed, Suhad! I thought you knew that. I intend to make you my wife."

"And what of the queen? Am I to pretend that she does not exist?"

"A Pharaoh may have as many wives as he chooses."

Suhad folded her arms in implicit disapproval, her lips compressed in a tight line. "Oh, so you intend to build a collection, do you?"

Tutankhamun smiled as the reason for her salty disposition suddenly dawned on him. "Are you jealous?"

"No, of course not!" Suhad burst out quickly, only to quickly amend her statement with the truth, "I mean...yes!" and then to backpedal again by adding in a suffocated tone, "I don't...well...perhaps a bit."

He swept her hands up in a light grasp and brought them to his lips. "There is no reason for jealousy, my love. _You_ are the only one who claims my heart."

"I wish that were reassurance enough. Sometimes I'm uncertain of my place here," Suhad confessed, "as if it doesn't exist at all and I'm again and again trying to wedge myself into a space that was not meant for me. I do not wish to be a burden to you but, I do not wish to be forgotten either."

"I have not forgotten you. No matter how busy my days become, _you_ are what dominates my thoughts," he said, "When it feels at times that my kingdom is on the verge of collapse, you are the one who keeps me sane, Suhad. I could not survive here without your presence.

"I know I have placed you in a difficult position but, you are here because I cannot bear to be apart from you. You have healed more than just my wounds. You've healed my heart. I want to spend the remainder of my life with you."

"And the fact that I am part Mitanni?" she wondered, "Does this not matter to you at all?"

"You _are_ Egyptian."

"That is not how they see me here," Suhad muttered, "That is not what they say about me." Tutankhamun remained silent, recognizing that there was little he could say to comfort her, not when he well knew the truth in her words despite his arguments. "When we were in the desert together, none of that mattered. We were neither Egyptian nor Mitanni. Now every interaction you have with me is judged suspiciously because I am seen as the enemy."

"I don't care what others think of us."

"You do," Suhad countered, "Or, at least, you should. You cannot even execute General Horemheb, _a man who left you to die_ , because there is too much speculation on whether or not I am influencing you to do it so as to serve as an advantage to the Mitanni!"

While he was shocked that she had somehow discerned the argument that had been circulating among his advisers for weeks now, Tutankhamun still made every effort to minimize the implication because he did not want Suhad blaming herself. "General Horemheb is very popular among the people," he told her, "And there is much doubt that I can defeat the Mitanni without his leadership. There are many factors involved in his stay of execution."

"But I am one of them," Suhad concluded astutely.

Though he was reluctant to confirm her suspicions, Tutankhamun was also equally reluctant to lie to her. "Yes. _However_ ," he added quickly before she could jump on the argument, "it is an unfounded accusation and eventually my advisers and my court will realize that."

"You mean just as the queen realized that you were right to kill Ka?" The words tumbled from Suhad's lips before she could stop them and, once voice aloud, they could not be unsaid.

Tutankhamun stumbled back a step. "Does it trouble you that she forgave me?"

"I think it's convenient. You told me that she loved him for years and that they carried on an affair behind your back. For her to become reconciled to his death so quickly, when it was by _your_ hand, seems...suspect."

Tutankhamun shook his head at the implication. "Ankhesenamun is not the woman you believe her to be. You misjudge her and assign her ulterior motives where there is no cause."

"And you constantly defend her," she countered swiftly, "You share a bond with her that I cannot begin to understand. _That_ is what troubles me."

"She is my sister. We share the same blood."

"She is your _wife_ ," Suhad emphasized, "and I can no longer pretend that it does not matter!"

" _You_ are the one who encouraged me to give her the benefit of the doubt!" he reminded her, "And now you condemn me because I do?"

"You're right!" she flung out in tearful frustration, "Then I have only myself to blame!"

Tutankhamun deflated at the retort, saddened and resigned at the knowledge that he would likely be unable to make her agreeable to the situation. "Suhad, I am bound to my life here," he explained gently, "My customs, my people, my duty and yes...to the Queen as well. This is who I am and I cannot change it. I want to give you this world. I want to share it with you, but I will not force you to take it. The choice must be yours, my love."

"There is no choice! I lost my ability to choose the moment I fell in love with you," Suhad replied, "and now I am as bound to you as you are to her."

"So where does that leave us?" Tutankhamun asked, "We seem to always come right back to this same place and without ever having gained answers."

"I don't know. But I _do_ know that I'm not happy without you and wherever you are is where I want to be also. So, if this is the only choice before me, then this is how it must be."

He gathered her into his arms then, relief washing through him with her reply. "You _are_ meant to be here, Suhad," he whispered as she clung to him, "That was ordained from the moment we met. No matter how bound I am to my duty, you will _always_ be first in my heart."


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**A/N: Okay, two things. First, you will notice that I start to deviate from the timeline of the mini series a bit. Events relatively stay the same, however. I am just sequencing them differently. Second, this fanfic is now completed, all 27 chapters plus an Epilogue. I will continue to post twice a week though because I am still in the middle of editing some parts.**

 **Anyway, thank everyone for reading and for taking the time to comment and leave feedback. It is very much appreciated.**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen**

In an abrupt turn of events, the queen requested audience with Suhad the following day.

She awakened in bed the next morning to find that Tutankhamun had already risen and gone from her bedchamber. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep in his arms was his grumpy observations that they should spend more time in _his_ bed because it was bigger which then predictably segued into all his supporting arguments for sharing his bedchamber. She had drifted off into slumber caught between smiling over his tenacity and rolling her eyes in exasperation. Now, only his lingering warmth and the faint imprint of where he had lain remained.

However, she barely had time to mourn the loss of his presence or wonder where he had gone because, moments after she had blinked into full wakefulness, a servant materialized at her bedside to inform her that the queen was demanding her presence. Suhad's first instinct was to panic a little. After all, it was an unprecedented event. Never in all the time she had been there had Ankhesenamun shown the slightest bit of interest in talking to her. She couldn't imagine what had prompted the queen's sudden change of heart and, whatever it was that had, Suhad also couldn't imagine that it was good. Consequently, she felt simultaneously dubious and reluctant upon processing the servant's message.

After bidding the girl to repeat herself three times for confirmation, however, Suhad finally dismissed her and rolled upright in bed. The instant she did she was hit with a powerful wave of nausea. She tried to bite down against the impulse but it was a fruitless endeavor. As soon as the bile welled up in her throat she had just enough time to scramble to the chamber pot at the foot of her bed. She heaved and heaved until there was nothing left in her stomach and she was left soaked in perspiration and trembling in the aftermath.

Suhad couldn't be certain if her sudden bout of nausea had more to do with her pregnancy or the growing dread she felt over her impending interview with the queen. She was anxious, reluctant to face her at all and yet, at the same time, more than ready to establish her rightful place in Tutankhamun's life. She wasn't some clandestine lover who should be hidden away in the shadows and she refused to be treated as such any longer. He might be Ankhesenamun's husband, brother and king, but he was Suhad's heart just as she was his...and there was simply no comparison. It was well past time the Queen of Egypt be made aware of that.

Although Suhad had a variety of beautiful garments that Tutankhamun had specially crafted for her during her stay with him, she decided to wear simple village attire when she stood before the queen. It was important to her to establish her identity. She was a simple village girl from Amurru and it was a fact of which Suhad was not ashamed. Furthermore, Ankhesenamun was _not_ someone she was seeking to impress. She would go before the queen as she was, with her head high and with her fierce, Amurru pride on display. That was all the adornment she needed.

An hour later, however, Suhad had a fleeting moment of regret regarding that decision when she was escorted to the queen's chambers and Ankhesenamun emerged from the most inner room draped in hand pleated, ivory colored linen and expensive jewels. Suhad did a quick self once-over and reflexively smoothed down her tunic. She was clean and presentable but it was difficult not to feel inadequate and gauche next to Ankhesenamun's regal grace.

Like her brother, the queen was breathtakingly lovely, particularly up close, with large, almond shaped eyes, dark, burnished hair, unblemished brown skin and a delicate bone structure. Suhad tried very hard not to squirm as Ankhesenamun cocked her head as she surveyed her, as if she could dissect her with her eyes.

"Hello, Suhad," she greeted in a tone as smooth as warm honey, "At last, we meet formally. Welcome to my chambers."

"I thank you, my queen, for the invitation," Suhad replied politely.

"Well, you have been here for some time now and yet, you and I have never had an opportunity to speak directly to one another. I thought perhaps I should remedy that."

"It's understandable that you have not until now," Suhad said, "I imagine my presence here has been rather... _discomfiting_ for you."

Ankhesenamun lifted her brows at what she perceived to be an unspoken challenge. "You mean because you currently warm the Pharaoh's bed?" she asked bluntly, "My dear, you are not the first to draw his attention in that regard and I sincerely doubt you will be the last. A man's lust can be a fickle thing. You must enjoy his _affection_ while you can."

Although she recognized on some level that she was being baited, Suhad still found herself snapping back a rejoinder. "His lordship has made it very clear to me that what he feels for me is deep and abiding and that he wishes for me to remain here with him _indefinitely_ ," she replied in a smooth tone, "Perhaps, you've been misinformed about the nature of our relationship."

"Your relationship is quite straight-forward. _He_ is your Pharaoh and _you_ are his subject."

"As are you," Suhad pointed out boldly.

The queen narrowed her eyes in response to that but otherwise failed to acknowledge Suhad's response. Instead, she demanded somewhat coldly, "How exactly did you meet the Pharaoh? Where did he find you?"

"He didn't find me. I found him," Suhad clarified, "His wound was infected and he was dying. I nursed him through his fever and brought him back to health."

"And back to _me_ ," Ankhesenamun added meaningfully, "As you do realize that _I_ am his wife and _I_ am the one who will become mother to his heir. I am the one who knows him best. One should be careful not to disregard those truths. Life could become very...challenging otherwise."

The implied threat dangled between them but, rather than compelling Suhad into fearful silence, she was spurred on to speak even more boldly. "Pardon, my queen, but I did not know who he was when I met him. He did not tell me his true identity until long after we had established our friendship. It was quite a while before he even mentioned your existence to me at all. My care for him had little to do with you or his birthright."

The revelation stunned Ankhesenamun into momentary silence. For weeks now she had been pressing Tutankhamun for the details of his recovery and Ka's betrayal in her desperation to understand how their cherished friendship had ended in spilled blood. Beyond telling her of the moment Ka and General Horemheb left him for dead and praising Suhad for then snatching him from the jaws of death, he had not volunteered much concerning his miraculous recovery and return. He had been even less inclined to share with her how he had become so attached to Suhad in what amounted to very little time. Despite his reticent attitude, Ankhesenamun remained full of questions. She determined if she could not get those answers from Tutankhamun himself then perhaps Suhad could be the one to supply them.

"Are you saying that you cared for him for weeks and, in all that time, you had no idea that he was the Pharaoh of Egypt?"

"I did not. He later confessed that he kept silent because he did not want me to look at him as the Pharaoh, but as a man."

Ankhesenamun's jaw set tightly. "Did he?"

"It makes sense considering the manner in which we first met," Suhad considered, "The first time I saw him was in a beer hall here in Thebes and he was dressed as any other commoner. When I found him dying in the riverbed later on I had no reason to believe he was anything other than a soldier fallen in battle. I was moved to aid him because he was in peril and he needed help."

Ankhesenamun grimaced, clearly grappling with the mental picture that created. "You met Tutankhamun in a _beer hall_? _My brother?_ "

"Yes," Suhad confirmed softly, "Has he not told you these things himself?" Ankhesenamun's features darkened with a momentary weakening of confidence. "Forgive me for being candid, my queen, but it seems to me that you do not know him best after all."

Her daring observation earned Suhad a withering glare from her queen. She tensed, preparing herself to be struck for her insolence. Instead Ankhesenamun stiffened her back and began circling Suhad like a predatory hawk, clearly sizing her up. She offered Suhad an enigmatic smile, very similar to the one her brother often used when he was devising a scheme. Suhad knew from past experience that the tension between herself and the queen was about to increase tenfold.

"Let us put away all pretense, shall we?" Ankhesenamun offered, "You and I shall never be friends. Given the circumstances, it is doubtful that we will even grow to tolerate one another. Therefore, it should be of no consequence if we speak our minds plainly at this time. Do you not agree?"

"I agree."

"I know very little of you, Suhad, beyond the fact that you come from a village in Amurru and you are...Mitanni. However, I know enough to discern that meeting my brother has elevated your station in life in no small measure. What good fortune you've been afforded to have unknowingly saved the life of your Pharaoh."

"I have not asked him for a single thing he has given me."

"Of course, you haven't. There's no need to ask. You are the one who saved his life, who afforded him with someone he could trust when he felt abandoned by all whom he loved," Ankhesenamun theorized, "And now he clings to you out of gratitude and grief and you have placed yourself in the optimal position of benefiting from his sorrow."

"I am not using him and I don't appreciate the implication."

"I am your Queen!" Ankhesenamun intoned haughtily, "You will address me in the proper manner or I shall provide you with a reminder on how to do so."

Though it galled her greatly, Suhad managed to choke out, "Forgive me, my queen, but...you are mistaken if you believe _this..._ " she made a vague, sweeping gesture towards their surroundings, "...is what I wanted. What I imagined for Khaten and I could not be further from this."

The smirk of satisfaction that started to turn up at the corners of Ankhesenamun's mouth collapsed abruptly with Suhad's informal use of Tutankhamun's name. "Excuse me. What did you call him?"

Suhad looked her directly in the eye when she answered. "What he expressly gave me permission to call him, my lady."

Ankhesenamun sniffed disdainfully, somehow more unnerved by that revelation than everything else she had learned prior. "You are much too familiar with him, especially if you feel so free as to address him by a name he hasn't answered to since he was a child! I will speak to Tutankhamun on this matter. His lack of boundaries with you is causing you to forget your place."

"And is that the reason I was brought here today, my queen...to remind me of my place?"

"You were brought here because I wanted to see for myself exactly what draws him to you," the queen said, her eyes raking Suhad in a scathing once-over, "Why you are so... _special_ to him? Thus far I've gleaned nothing impressive. You're quite unremarkable."

"And yet he continues to prefer my bed to yours...'unremarkable' though I am," Suhad replied before she could stop herself. She mentally kicked herself for lacking the ability to restrain her impertinent tongue and prepared herself for the verbal lashing she knew was coming.

The queen whirled on her with a deadly scowl. "Do not be mistaken, Suhad. Tutankhamun will visit my bed again," Ankhesenamun bit out, "He and I have a duty to this kingdom...to produce an heir in our father's name and _that_ will always come before all else. We will have a family and then you will be forgotten and cast aside. I wonder then what your recourse will be."

Suhad did not want to reveal the lacerating effect Ankhesenamun's words had on her heart. The woman was not telling her anything she hadn't considered before. She well knew how paramount it was to Tutankhamun to continue his bloodline. She also knew that, eventually, he would need to turn his attention towards fulfilling that duty. What she had not allowed herself to contemplate too closely was where that would leave her and her child. Once Tutankhamun had an heir with Ankhesenamun would there even be a place for her any longer?

The fear produced in her by the veracity of Ankhesenamun's callous words had her speaking thoughtlessly yet again. "My queen, has something changed in recent months? I was of the impression that the gods do not favor you, hence your inability to produce a child that actually draws breath!"

Despite knowing that she had crossed a line, Ankhesenamun's ringing slap still came as a surprise to Suhad. She managed to swallow back her yelp as her cheek came alive with burning pain, causing reflexive tears to spring to her eyes. However, when she met Ankhesenamun's irate stare once again Suhad's demeanor was as proud as ever.

"How dare you!" the queen hissed, "You insolent girl! Do you not realize that by cursing me you curse _him_ as well?"

Suhad lifted her chin to a haughty angle, refusing to be cowed. "T'was not meant as a curse but a statement of fact. You have yet to produce a child that lives. So, perhaps, I will be the one to give him an heir. Have you ever considered that possibility?"

"An heir?" Ankhesenamun scoffed, "From you? You're a fool. Any half-breed bastard you produce will never sit on the throne! Were such a child to come into existence, it would be a shame to this family and stain upon our dynasty! Such a child would be cursed from birth."

Each word was like a fist driving into Suhad's gut. It was her first inkling that, not only would her child likely be unwelcome in the palace, but possibly despised as well. She thought of her innocent baby, growing rapidly inside her body and heart, being labeled as a "half-breed" and "bastard" and it made her feel physically ill. But also it filled Suhad with protective resolve. No one would make her child feel like he or she was less, not if she had any say in it. For every bit of hatred her son or daughter received, Suhad would love him or her one hundred times more fiercely.

Through indomitable pride and sheer will alone, Suhad managed to keep the tears welling in her eyes from spilling down her cheeks. "I'm sure those are your feelings on the matter," she acknowledged hoarsely, "but what of the Pharaoh's? I suspect he may feel something else entirely."

"Are you really certain you want to place him in the position of having to choose between your theoretical Mitanni bastard and his kingdom? Because that is the issue before us, Suhad. What is at stake here is so much larger than your so-called romance! There are kingdoms to be conquered, monuments to be built and dynasties to be made! If you bear him a child you will destroy _everything_ he has sacrificed to build." Ankhesenamun paused deliberately to let those words sink in before driving home her killing blow. "Is that how you prove your love?"

Satisfied that she had made her point, Ankhesenamun had a visibly distressed Suhad escorted from her chambers. The queen did not drop her facade of superiority to reveal the fact that she was equally distressed only when her rival was well beyond earshot. She stumbled a few steps and collapsed into a nearby chaise, thoroughly exhausted and trembling after her confrontation with Suhad. Herit, the queen's cousin and attendant, quickly discerning her queen's shaken disposition, emerged from her concealed place to minister to Ankhesenamun. She quickly grabbed a towel and a basin of water and began sponging the cool clothe across the distraught young queen's brow.

"You cannot listen to a word she says, cousin," she whispered in reassurance, "The girl is overconfident and does not know her place."

"But is she wrong?" Ankhesenamun countered thickly, "He doesn't confide in me anymore, Herit. He has been distant and remote ever since he returned. More and more, _she_ is the one he turns to for comfort and advice. And as far as visiting my bed..."

"...he _must_ visit your bed," Herit interrupted, "Your pregnancy will soon become known. If you are to convince the Pharaoh that you have conceived his child then you must act quickly!"

"But how can I when he won't even touch me, Herit?" Ankhesenamun cried wildly, "He hasn't come to me once since he returned to the Thebes. I thought perhaps that it was due to all that had transpired with Ka but now I see now that has little to do with it. He stays away because of her."

"You don't know that."

"I do," the queen insisted, "I'm not ignorant. The servants talk. I hear their whispers. He visits her every night without fail. I've no doubt she will conceive soon if she has not already."

"But what of everything you told her?" Herit reminded her, "Her child would never be accepted."

"Perhaps not by Egypt, not at first. But Tutankhamun? He will welcome that child with open arms and any son Suhad bears to him will be a favorite in his eyes," Ankhesenamun predicted, "because his mother is so...deeply loved."

"Do you truly believe he loves her?"

Ankhesenamun inclined her head in a despondent nod. "I've seen the way he looks at her, the way he talks to her, the way he touches her. It reminds me of the way Ka once looked at me...and the way I'm sure I looked at him," she confessed mournfully, "I well know what love looks like, cousin."

"Then you know what you must do," Herit told her, "You must secure your place by any means."

The queen threw Herit an anguished look of self-doubt. "To what end and at whose expense? He is happy, Herit, perhaps for the first time in his entire life! Who am I to deny him?"

"Did he not deny you?" Herit asked, "Do you think for one moment your unhappiness ever deterred him from his duty? He did not hesitate when he took Ka from you. Why should you hesitate now?"

"I do not wish to hurt him, cousin. He has been lied to enough and I have no desire to add to the deception he has already endured. Above all else, he is my brother and I love him. How can I expect our relationship to survive with such a monstrous lie between us? Surely you realize that what we are proposing to do is despicable."

"What choice do you have? He will never accept this child otherwise. If you tell him you conceived a child with his betrayer, you will be cast out! Is it your wish for your kingdom to have a Mitanni heir because that is what will happen if you tell Tutankhamun the truth!"

"That can never happen!"

"Then act, cousin! Do you imagine he will be unhappy that you have presented him the child you both have wanted these many years?" Herit considered, "It will be born of your blood and therefore a part of him as well. He will not deny a child from your womb and he will not deny you."

"But first he must be made to believe that he is the father."

"Then you must seduce him," Herit advised, "Now. Today. Do not wait any longer!"

"How?" Ankhesenamun cried again, "Have you not heard me? He does not want me! That part of our relationship has never been easily fulfilled. It will be 1000 times more difficult now! He has eyes for no woman except hs Mitanni whore!"

"You should then remind him of the duty he bears to you and to all Egypt," Herit said, "You yourself said that nothing will come before that. Use it to your advantage, cousin. Do not allow this peasant girl to steal away what is rightfully yours!" She cradled Ankhesenamun's face fiercely in her hands. "Can you do this, my queen? For Egypt! For your bloodline!"

"Yes," the queen answered, swallowing down her guilt with a resolute intake of breath, "I can."


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Chapter Fourteen**

It was difficult for Suhad to look Tutankhamun in the eye day after day all the while knowing she was keeping the truth of her pregnancy from him. Two weeks had passed since Suhad's confrontation with the queen and, ever since, she had battled with herself over what she should do. Some days she was firm about telling him, confident that he would be happy and welcoming. Other days, she was certain the truth would only add to the heavy burden he already shouldered. She couldn't quite banish Ankhesenamun's ominous warning from her thoughts, that her bearing Tutankhamun a child could mean ruination for him and his kingdom.

The worst part was that Suhad couldn't dismiss the queen's words out of turn. There was merit to the argument. Though it was mostly baseless, speculation ran rampant throughout the palace concerning how much influence Suhad exerted over the Pharaoh's decisions. His apparent lack of decisive action against the Mitanni threat was often attributed to her. Did he really hesitate to act due to lack of military leadership and internal strife or was he merely reluctant to lift his hand against his lover's people? His preoccupation with her only caused his judgment to become suspect in his people's eyes.

Were Tutankhamun to establish their child as his heir, and with the queen unable to produce a living child it was a real possibility, Suhad had few doubts that his enemies would use that as an excuse to remove him from power in much the way they had dispatched his father, Akhenaten, before him. She could neither compound his woes nor jeopardize his life and kingship, not now when matters within the kingdom remained so tenuous. She had little choice but to keep her growing pregnancy a secret. In Suhad's mind, she placated herself with the promise that she wasn't going to keep the truth from him indefinitely. She was simply waiting for an opportune time to give him the news.

Still, the guilt ate away at her like corrosive acid and it was only compounded by Tutankhamun's loving demeanor and unsuspecting generosity. The more tenderness and patience he expended towards her, the less worthy of him she felt. As a result, Suhad began to distance herself from him, choosing to deliberately avoid his presence rather than subject herself to the overwhelming shame and self-hatred she felt whenever they were together. She knew that Tutankhamun was hurt and confused by her inexplicable coolness towards him and she wanted to comfort and reassure him but, she had no idea what she could say when the truth was not an option. Suhad could only hope that he would understand her reasoning once her pregnancy became known.

Presently, she wandered around aimlessly in the palace courtyard, trying not to be too aware of the fact that Tutankhamun was likely awaiting her arrival in his bedchamber at that very second. Lately, he had been making a very diligent effort to steal away an hour in his hectic afternoons so that they might spend more time together. He was as busy as he had ever been yet it was important to him to prove to Suhad that she was his priority. Tutankhamun had no way of knowing that his efforts to be an accommodating and dutiful lover were driving Suhad into the depths of depression.

She felt pangs of anguish at the thought of him waiting there for her, disappointed and bewildered when she did not make an appearance but, for Suhad, the alternative was worse. Sometimes he was _too_ wonderful, more than what she believed she deserved. She well remembered how remote Tutankhamun had seemed in those early days when she was nursing him back to health and he was keeping the secret of his true identity. Suhad wondered if he might have felt something similar to what she was feeling now. If so, he must have been in excruciating emotional pain every hour of every day.

Suhad was so lost in thought and so unaware of her actions that she did not realize she was staring intently at a game-like design of colored diamond shapes drawn on the courtyard floor until a voice sounded off to her right. "It's a foot game. A game of balance, really." Suhad jerked upright, surprised to find a young man about her age with curious eyes and a welcoming smile standing a few feet away. He was very good-looking with a sturdy stature and had the look of an Egyptian noble. Suhad was immediately wary of him but smiled politely as he continued on explaining to her the rules of the game.

"You have to hop on one foot," he said, "There's colored dice that determine which marker to step on. It can be amusing, particularly if there is a wager or two involved."

"I played a game similar to this when I was a girl," Suhad said, "But I can't say we ever played for lots as we never had anything of real value to wager."

"Well, it's not a hard and fast rule," the young man replied, surveying her with a speculative glance. "You are the one who came back with the Pharaoh, are you not?"

Suhad's heart immediately descended into her belly as she prepared herself for an abrupt end to their pleasant conversation. "I am."

But he did not reject her or withdraw from her scornfully as others did. Instead, he continued to smile at her with friendly appeal. "I thought so. I've only managed to see you from afar on most days. You're accompanied by the Pharaoh most often and I've the inkling that approaching you while you are in his company probably isn't the wisest idea. I didn't imagine I'd ever get close enough to ever have a real conversation with you."

"And that was a goal of yours because...?" Suhad prompted in wry amusement.

"Well, as I'm sure you're aware, there aren't many within our age group here in the palace aside from the Pharaoh and the Queen and I'm sure you also understand that we don't often socialize in the same circles. It's nice to finally have someone here my age with whom I can interact." He bent forward in belated greeting. "I am Nahkt, by the way, the Vizier's son. I am pleased to make your acquaintance." Suhad bowed in return, observing him tentatively through the screen of her lashes. "Welcome to the palace."

"Thank you," Suhad murmured in husky gratitude, "I think yours is the first sincere greeting I've received since arriving here. I am Suhad."

"Oh, so then you understand quite well what it is like?"

Suhad favored him with a questioning look. "What it's like?"

"To be elevated in station and supposedly valued as an equal yet continually viewed as an undeserving commoner. You're always trying to prove yourself and your right to be here but you are also constantly reminded that you will never be good enough. Does this sound at all familiar?"

Suhad lowered her eyes in sorrowful acknowledgement. "Yes, I might know something of that feeling."

"You and I are not so different, Suhad," Nahkt told her, "So, if you are expecting me to judge you adversely because of your relationship with the Pharaoh, allow me to put your mind at ease." Suhad chanced a wary glance at him. "I know very well how it feels to be isolated and alone within these palace walls. I have not had many friends here, despite being raised in the palace all of my life. I would like to spare you a similar pain, if I can."

"So you wish to befriend me out of pity?"

"The point you should take away from this is... _I should like to befriend you_ ," he countered, "Is that not enough?"

Suhad rolled her eyes in laughing acceptance. "I suppose I can allow it."

Nahkt's smile widened as her defensive walls were gradually lowered. "I think that you and I will become very good friends, Suhad." He gestured to the game. "Shall I teach you the rules? I haven't trounced anyone at this sport in quite some time."

"Oh, my dear, Nahkt," she returned with an airy smile, "your challenge is accepted."

From his balcony beyond the palace courtyard, Tutankhamun watched the exchange between Nahkt and Suhad with eyes narrowed in growing displeasure. He couldn't quite place what it was about their interaction filled him with anger and frustration but he knew absolutely that he didn't like it. That disquieting feeling was only exacerbated when he considered how distant Suhad had been with him of late, especially when he thought about how abrupt her attitude shift had been. The last time she had been so emotionally withdrawn from him had been while they were in the desert and she'd decided to return home to Amurru rather than accompanying him to Thebes. Tutankhamun wondered if she might be entertaining the same consideration now.

He wasn't blind to her growing unhappiness. In spite of his best efforts, she spent most of her days left to her own devices due to the constant turmoil churning within his kingdom. She had no family and no friends to support her. _He_ was the only thing tying her to Thebes at all. Tutankhamun imagined that the stress of being separated from him day after day was only compounded by the knowledge that she was not accepted within the palace. As a result, he did his utmost to put her at ease, often incurring the irritation of his vizier and royal advisers whenever he cut short their daily meetings of military strategizing in order to seek Suhad out and spend time with her.

Lately, however, even that did not appear to be enough and, the harder he tried, the more Suhad seemed to isolate herself. He felt as if she was slipping away from him a bit more every day and there was little he could do to stop it. That prospect of possibly losing her love frightened him more than the wrath of all his enemies combined. If Suhad were to leave him, as he feared she wanted to, then Tutankhamun imagined that there would be very little in his life that mattered following her departure.

"They do look charming together, do they not?" Tutankhamun stiffened instantly at Ankhesenamun's approach, his hands tightening reflexively against the stone banister as he prepared himself for the untold strain she would undoubtedly bring him. Seemingly impervious to his lack of enthusiasm at her arrival and without waiting for his invitation, she came to stand alongside him, peering down into the courtyard where Nahkt and Suhad were having their hopping game. "I don't believe I've ever seen her laugh so freely...not even with _you_ ," Ankhesenamun commented with a thoughtful air, "She's actually quite beautiful when she smiles like that."

Tutankhamun's jaw tightened with jealousy at the observation but otherwise he did not comment on it. Instead, he asked with obvious impatience, "Is there something you require at this time, sister?"

"Only what we have discussed at length for the past several weeks," Ankhesenamun stated, "We must produce an heir, brother. With matters as they are, we must establish a foothold in this kingdom."

"As you have said, the matter has been discussed and a conclusion made, Ankhesenamun," he replied shortly, placing his hands behind his back, "The timing is not right."

"Is it the timing or is it the girl?" Tutankhamun regarded her with an enigmatic look, maintaining his silence. "She is _not_ your queen! She is _not_ the one you married so that we could conceive a child in our father's name!" She lifted her hand to trace the ridge of his collarbone lightly, her fingers stroking at the base of his throat where his pulse fluttered. "We have a duty to this kingdom, brother."

He swept aside her hand, his features becoming even more remote. "What is it that you want from me, Ankhesenamun? Surely, not this. You have _never_ wanted this."

"Since when have our desires ever influenced our duty?"

"Perhaps that should change."

"Tutankhamun," she cajoled in a beseeching whisper, "this is not a small thing that I am asking of you. Brother, you know what is at stake." She drew closer to him, her breath stirring against his face as she murmured, "Let us try once more...for this kingdom and our father."

Rather than yielding to the tacit offer of her lips, Tutankhamun leaned forward to pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, hoping to lessen the sting of his coming refusal. "No. I will not. Do not ask me again."

But, as he started to turn away from her, Ankhesenamun's words followed him, her voice trembling with unshed tears and anger as she spoke. "Do not prove our father right, brother!" she cried, "He never believed you could be a great Pharaoh. But you have shown yourself opposite. You rise above your enemies for the greater good of Egypt. Do not let this girl cloud your mind after everything we have been through!

"She is Mitanni and they are our sworn enemies," she reminded him, "Do not disregard our forefathers! You preach duty and oath to General Horemheb and his men. Do not make yourself into a hypocrite!" He slowly pivoted to face her, unable to fully block out the truth in her words or the pangs of his own conscience regarding them. "This is your duty, Tutankhamun. _This_...is your oath!"

As he started to open his mouth to make a reply to her, Suhad's laughter rang up from the courtyard below. He peered over the edge to see her smiling in that guileless, unguarded way she had and he felt his heart contract with love and longing for her. In that moment, it didn't matter to him that he was not the one to have coaxed forth her smile. It was enough for Tutankhamun to see her happy. He turned his gaze back towards an expectant Ankhesenamun.

"I am sorry, sister," he murmured regretfully, "but I cannot do what you ask."

The gravity of his decided course continued to weigh heavily on Tutankhamun for the remainder of the day, making him feel edgy and short-tempered. He recognized that, by denying Ankhesenamun, he was not only turning his back on his duty to her but every pharaoh that had ever come before him. He was denouncing his bloodline, rejecting his own birthright...and for a woman he wasn't entirely sure wanted to be with him any longer. The more he thought about it, the more aggravated he became so that by the time Suhad joined him in his chambers that night his mood had darkened considerably.

As soon as she was escorted into his interior room, he curtly dismissed the servants and rounded on her in accusation. "Where were you this afternoon?" he demanded shortly, "I waited for you here."

Suhad looked away from him in an attempt to mask her guilt and remorse. "I needed some air. I decided to go for a walk."

"With the Vizier's son?"

She cut him a sharp glance. "You were watching me?"

"I was _waiting_ for you because we were supposed to meet here," he emphasized, "Tell me, Suhad, exactly what is it about him that makes you prefer his company to mine?"

"It has nothing to do with preference," she protested, "Nahkt was kind to me. He showed me a game and provided me with some much needed amusement. I should think you would not begrudge me that small bit of happiness in this dreary place!"

"I do not begrudge you happiness, Suhad, but I will not permit you to take a lover. Do you understand? _I forbid it!_ "

Suhad gaped at him in disbelief. "What did you say to me?"

"You are mine," Tutankhamun intoned haughtily, "Mine alone. I will not share you with _anyone_! Is that clear?"

Her defensive guilt was abruptly obliterated in the wake of his possessive jealousy. Suhad rounded on him, her hands fisted at her sides with gathering rage. "So what...am I now viewed as little more than your _property_? You think to dictate to me where and when to go and with whom I can spend time?" she spat, "How dare you make such an accusation? How dare you belittle me? You, of all people, haven't the right! Should I pretend that you will not be visiting the queen's bed soon enough? _I_ am expected to share but you are above it!"

"It is not the same."

"But you admit you will have her eventually?"

"I have not done that at all," he bit out tightly.

" _Yet!_ But you _will_ ," Suhad retorted, "So, don't you dare tell me what I can and cannot do! You do not own me! I can see whom I want, when I want. And, should the fancy strike me to take a lover, _that_ shall be my choosing as well!"

He glared at her in such a way that Suhad believed he would have gladly grabbed hold of her and shaken her senseless right then. But instead, he simply stiffened his back and walked out without another word. His stony exit, as well as the barely restrained rage that had been stamped all over his face, were firm indicators to Suhad that she might have pushed him too far. However, her rebellious pride prevented her from calling him back.

She sank down onto a nearby settee on trembling knees, seething over his unmitigated gall. _How dare he_ , she ranted inwardly. How dare he lay claim to her as if she were nothing more than an inanimate piece of artwork or an article of clothing? How dare he imply that she would be so disloyal, so disrespectful to him as to take a lover? Didn't he know her better than that? Didn't he realize that she could never entertain the thought of anyone in her bed besides him?

However, the longer Suhad sat there reliving that last conversation with Tutankhamun, the more she began to realize she was being unfair to him. Likely his hurt and confusion over her distance had been what prompted his uncharacteristic flare of unreasonable jealousy in the first place. She had faulted him for being possessive of her and yet, she was equally possessive of him. Wasn't it her own seething resentment of Ankhesenamun which had prompted her to hurl accusations at him in the first place? And had he spoken anything untrue? She was _his_...just as he was _hers_. In hindsight, she realized that she was more offended by the context in which he had used the sentiment than the actual sentiment itself.

As her anger cooled further and was gradually replaced with swamping regret, Suhad also acknowledged that was judging him too harshly for not knowing her better. How could he know her when she was deliberately keeping parts of herself hidden from him? It was her own lies which were causing the rift between them and not some deficit on his part. How could he possibly discern her motives when she was continually pushing him away? And was it really any wonder that he had jumped to wild conclusions after she left him waiting today and then spent the time that should have been reserved for him with Nahkt?

He had been wrong to attack her as he had but her belligerent response had only worsened matters. At the heart of all his bluster and anger, she knew that he was probably frightened and desperate not to lose her, especially when he could feel her slipping away from him without any explanation. Were their positions reversed, Suhad had little doubt that she would feel the same. For that reason alone, she was willing to make allowances for his unjustified anger with her.

After her meditating deeply on all that had transpired, Suhad knew what she had to do. She _had_ to tell Tutankhamun the truth. No matter how much she feared the consequences, he deserved to know that she was carrying his child. He deserved to understand why she had been so distant and he needed the reassurance that it had nothing to do with her love for him diminishing. More than ever, they needed to stand together in a united front and fortify their love, not tear down their bond from the inside. She didn't know what would happen once all had been revealed but Suhad was quite confident that she and Tutankhamun would face it together. Resolved in her decision, Suhad waited patiently for him to return.

She was very near to dozing when he finally returned to his bedchamber many hours later. He stopped short to see her there, clearly surprised by the discovery that she had not retreated to her own bedchamber long ago. Suhad quickly straightened as the brief flash of joy that flickered across Tutankhamun's face quickly dissipated and his features became shuttered and guarded. She couldn't tell if he welcomed her presence right then or if he lamented it. Suhad was inclined to think it was the latter when Tutankhamun slumped forward as he climbed the dais steps, his shoulders stooped in a defeated posture.

"I'm tired, Suhad," he declared implacably, "I do not wish to fight with you."

"Then let us not fight at all," she said in return, "I owe you an apology. I've been unfair to you. I was wrong to avoid you this afternoon and for this last week as well. Believe me when I tell you that I have my reasons, which I shall explain in full detail in a moment. But first you should know, there is _nothing_ between Nahkt and I. Today was the first time we have ever spoken. I am loyal to you and will always be so. I should not have implied otherwise."

Tutankhamun looked away, his jaw flexing with emotion. "I know that. I apologize as well for making such baseless assumptions. We were both angry and said words we now regret. I never should have accused you."

Suhad rose to her feet with a tentative smile, slowly closing the distance between them. "I have hope that we can put it behind us, my love, especially when I share my news with you." She embraced him then, becoming aware of the subtle stiffening in his back only an instant after she detected the cloying scent of perfumed oil on his skin. She recognized the fragrance right away. It was a distinct smell associated only with the queen. The implication of the fragrance on his skin was clear. Suhad connected the pieces with disheartening alacrity. It wasn't difficult then to decipher the reason behind his tension and wary behavior.

As if sensing her train of thought, Tutankhamun shrugged from her arms with a guilty intake of breath. "It was not intended," he said gruffly, unable to meet her eyes.

"But it was inevitable," she concluded before asking in a trembling tone, "Was I the reason you went to her? Were you seeking comfort? Did I drive you into her arms tonight? Was it to spite me? Tell me!"

He finally met her eyes then and, for the first time, Suhad could see that he was fighting back tears as well. "No, you were not the reason. I went to her because I have an obligation and I could no longer ignore it."

"Yes, your ever present duty to produce a child," Suhad bit out derisively.

"Suhad, if I do not have an heir then I will have failed everyone who has come before me!"

"Yes, you must have a successor but must it be _her_ child?" she cried.

Tutankhamun went completely still. "What are you asking me?"

"You were forced to marry her. You are not in love. I would think that a child born of passion would be your choice as heir to your kingdom."

"You must understand...my sister's blood is pure," he explained gently, "I will always be obligated to choose a son from her womb and she will remain my Queen. That path was ordained for me long before I was born. I'm sorry if this hurts you."

The air suddenly seemed too thick for Suhad. To have her greatest fear confirmed by his words was nothing short of devastating. She had long wondered what her child's place would be in his life and now she knew...no place at all. Suhad felt as if she was struggling to breathe and each inhalation was like fire. She was so distraught that she didn't even realize that she was weeping openly until she felt the splashing against her collarbone.

"Of course. I understand. Who am I to upset a practice that has endured for hundreds of years?"

"This is not a reflection on you, Suhad, or my love for you."

"Then why does it _feel_ like it is?"

Her name escaped his lips in a mournful whisper and his arms reached out, whether he meant to touch her or hold her Suhad did not know, but she sidestepped his efforts. "No!" she hissed sharply, "Curse you! Do not seek to comfort me! Not now. Not when you reek of _her_!"

He dropped his arms, beseeching her helplessly with remorseful eyes. "I don't know what to say to you. I don't have the words."

"Say nothing at all," she replied in a dull tone as she briskly whisked away her tears, "This isn't a revelation. I knew what to expect when I came here. You never lied to me about that. I knew...and yet I agreed to accompany you here despite my better judgment. The choice was mine. So, any pain I feel at this time is completely self-inflicted. Please, save your apologies. You have nothing for which to feel guilty."

She turned and fled from his chambers then before he could say a word in response, fearful that he might break her resolve to harden her heart by pulling her into his embrace and even more fearful that she would let him.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Chapter Fifteen**

Suhad studied her nude form in the polished metal that lay propped against the wall in the corner of her bedchamber. Her body had undergone many changes in the last few weeks, though many of those changes remained undetected while she was clothed. Her hair had grown thicker and longer and her skin had acquired a healthy shine. After weeks of misery, her constant nausea was finally starting to abate as well and her appetite had become increasingly voracious.

And then there were the more subtle changes, the ones of which only _she_ was aware. Suhad smoothed both hands up and down the length of her body, noting each slight difference. She cupped her breasts, testing their growing weight in her hands before drifting lower to explore the slight thickening at her middle. Sometimes, when she was perfectly still, Suhad could swear she could feel a faint flutter there just below her navel. She smiled faintly to herself as she felt it now, her heart swelling with love for the little life that thrived inside of her.

"I'd almost forgotten how beautiful you are." Startled by Tutankhamun's silent entrance, Suhad made a desperate grab for the discarded cloak at her feet and quickly shrugged into it, wrapping it around her naked form. When she felt her modesty was sufficiently protected and that Tutankhamun remained unaware of the true reason for her nervousness, she pinned him with a displeased glare, staunchly ignoring the shuttered look of longing in his dark eyes.

Tutankhamun held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I did not mean to startle you. I called out your name as I entered," he reassured her gentle, "but, I suppose you did not hear me."

"What do you want?" she asked him tightly.

"To talk," he said, "Is that permissible? Can we talk, Suhad, _really_ talk...something more than polite exchanges?"

She wanted to refuse him but this was the first overture at conversation the two of them had shared in nearly four weeks and, until that moment, Suhad did not realize how starved she had been for real dialogue with him until he requested it. There was that and also the dawning realization that _he_ had been the one to sacrifice humble himself in order to end the stalemate of silence between them. If he could make that step then surely she could meet him halfway. Suhad inclined a small nod of consent at his request and wordlessly invited him to take a seat. Once he had, she took the seat adjacent to his.

"Go on. Speak your mind," she bid him.

"I meant what I said to you before. You look beautiful."

"Please don't say such things to me...not after all that's happened."

"Why not? It's true. When I saw you a moment ago, it felt like I was seeing you that way for the very first time. You and I have become virtual strangers to one another in the past few weeks and it feels like agony. Even your body, which I could have sworn I knew better than my own, seems unfamiliar to me now."

Suhad went rigid with the observation, unable to discern whether he was making a figurative statement or a literal one. "I'm...I'm sorry. What?" she stammered, clutching her robe tighter. She blinked at him in mounting discomfiture. "Wh-Why are we having this discussion at all?"

"Because...I miss you. I miss kissing you and holding you and sleeping next to you at night. I miss the way you smile and your laugh and your practical way of looking at the world. I miss _everything_ about you. That's why."

The unguarded confession had a powerful effect. Those single, candid statement managed to crumble every protective wall Suhad had erected against him, leaving her emotionally defenseless. She lowered her head, her words muffled as she confessed, "I miss you as well."

"Quite honestly, I don't really know why we're odds right now," he murmured in confusion, "I thought we were getting on well and you were happy and then...you stopped talking to me. I have no idea what happened at all."

"It's the same reason that you and I are always at odds," she replied, "This is your world. It is not mine, no matter how much I like pretend otherwise. I don't belong here with you."

"I don't agree."

She tipped back her head with an exasperated smile. "You never do. This is exactly the reason we continue to go round and round about."

"I know that this has been a complicated transition being away from your family and your home and everything that is familiar to you. I'm not ignorant of your sacrifices. In fact, I've been trying sincerely to make it easier for you. Our circumstances are not ideal. That much is true. And we have met with our fair share of challenges lately but, I am not willing to give up, Suhad. Are you?"

"Truthfully? I've been thinking lately that it might be better if I returned to Amurru," she said softly, unaware that she had even been entertaining the consideration until she said it out loud.

That night when he had returned from Ankhesenamun's bed had broken something vital inside of her. Tutankhamun had never made a secret of his need for an heir. Suhad had spent weeks convincing herself that when the time came for him to reestablish his intimate relationship with the queen, she would be ready. She wouldn't like it but she would most certainly find a way to accept it because that was the price one paid for loving the Pharaoh. She hadn't imagined that she would feel so gutted in the aftermath...or so betrayed by him. Even now, it was difficult for her to look at him without remembering that night, though she managed not to hate him virulently as she had in the immediate days following.

"If I leave tomorrow, I can make it back to Amurru in a matter of weeks. That would likely be best," she said. For all her bravado on the matter, however, Suhad hadn't quite worked out the logistics of returning home to her parents pregnant and unmarried. Furthermore, she had so many details to finalize that leaving the following day would be next to impossible.

Tutankhamun, however, had no way of knowing that and therefore he reacted to her plans as if they were already set in stone. "Best for whom?" he demanded, "For you or for me?"

"For us both. You plainly acknowledged it yourself. I miss my home and my family. And recently, it has come to my attention that, no matter how much I want to be with you, there are certain things I cannot accept. I cannot see that ever changing...not with things as they are."

He blinked back the sting of tears that sprang to his eyes with her candid response. "So you're proposing to run away? Can you not give us more time? You haven't even allowed for a period of adjustment!"

"There has been plenty of time. This is obviously not working! I'm trying to spare us further pain," she told him, "If I returned to Amurru, you would have no need to feel constantly pulled between me and your duty to this land and I could spare myself the heartbreak of hoping that you and I could be something more than what we are."

"And what are we, Suhad?"

"Two people who were never meant to love each as we do."

"It's too late to change that now," he whispered, "I don't want you to go. It won't solve anything!"

"And I don't want to go, not if it means leaving you and everything we have between us behind," she countered, "But I don't know what else to do!"

" _Don't leave_ ," he reiterated fiercely, "Rail at me. Hate me if you must, but do not leave me."

She swallowed past the acrid lump of tears that rose in her throat. "You're not being fair."

"Then I am in fine company because neither are you! Suhad, you once told me that you did not regret our love even with all the difficulty we faced together. Have your feelings changed so drastically?" She answered with an almost imperceptible shake of her head but that small gesture was enough to encourage Tutankhamun to press onward. "My love, there is nothing in life worthwhile that is not won without blood and sacrifice. Should our love be any different?"

"Sounds more like warfare than love."

"Sometimes love _is_ a battle," he argued, "You must be willing to bleed if you wish to attain victory. The love between us was _never_ easily attained, not even from the start. Why should you expect it now?"

Suhad had no ready answer for that, not because she was unable to answer but because she could not dispute a single word he had spoken. And if the penetrating manner in which Tutankhamun regarded her was any indication, he absolutely _knew_ she couldn't. Suhad clutched her cloak more tightly around her, feeling more exposed to him now than she had when she had been standing naked. "I don't appreciate being bullied," she huffed.

Tutankhamun blew out a short, infuriated breath. "I am not bullying you but, I will not allow you to bury yourself in willful ignorance either! Suhad, if you go back to Amurru now then everything we have endured until this moment is for nothing. Is that really what you want? Is _this_ all you want us to become to one another?"

Each query caused her to shrink back from him, both physically and emotionally. He was asking the right questions but she was nowhere near ready to answer them. Wisely recognizing that pressing the issue further would only cause her to shut down even more, Tutankhamun smoothly switched tactics by choosing a more neutral subject to discuss. "I decreed a new law today."

Grateful for the topic change, Suhad relaxed slightly and responded with restrained interest. "What law is that?"

"I've decided that the people shall no longer be required to pay tribute to the temples," he said, "Any offering they make shall be voluntary on their part and at a time of their choosing. The high priest is to see it implemented throughout all Egypt."

Shock and pride caused Suhad to sit up straighter in her seat. "And how exactly did his holiness receive that news?"

Tutankhamun pursed his lips thoughtfully. "He was not thrilled. I'm quite certain he threatened me with the wrath of the gods and yet..."

"...and yet?"

He smiled. "It felt good. I knew I had acted in the interest of my people and it felt very good."

"Of course it did," Suhad agreed with a proud smile, "You are coming into your own as Pharaoh as I always knew that you would. I have never doubted you."

"I know that," he acknowledged quietly, "Really, it has been your unwavering faith in my abilities which has given me the courage to do things I might not have dared to do otherwise. And I thought, if I could change this one law despite its persistence for generations, then perhaps there are other things that I could change as well."

"What sort of things?"

"My responsibility to bear an heir and with whom. Perhaps it is time that the long held custom of incestuous marriage alliances within my family come to an end." Their eyes collided in a profound stare full of meaningful implication. Suhad said nothing, too timid to speak a word in that moment for fear she had somehow misheard him. Tutankhamun spoke instead. "I have not visited Ankhesenamun since that terrible night, Suhad. I will not go to her again."

Suhad could not ignore the subtext within his declaration. "I've never asked that of you...for you to dismiss hundreds and hundreds of years of your own history on my behalf."

"You should not have to ask. I was wrong to go to her. I lied when I said I didn't go to her to spite you. I did. I was angry and hurt and I wanted to hurt you in return and...I regret that more than I can say."

"Do you see how convoluted this has become?" Suhad burst out with a humorless laugh, briefly covering her face with her hands, "You're actually offering me apologies for lying with your own wife!"

" _You_ are the wife of my heart and I betrayed you. You have the right to be angry."

"I don't want to be angry! I don't want to be hurt! I'm tired, Khaten, and I'm afraid that if I allow myself to hope in us, I'll be disappointed yet again. It would be easier to accept matters as they are because...every time I open my heart to the possibility of us being something more, I am left broken! I don't know if I can survive it again."

"You won't have to. I am going to change things. I want to give this to you, Suhad...and to myself."

"Khaten, I..."

"...If I am to have a son to carry on my legacy," he interjected before she could finish her protest, "then I want to conceive that child with you." She was still trying to gather together her racing thoughts over that incredible declaration when he rose from his seat and stepped forward to press a tender kiss to her forehead. "I will give you time to think about all I have said here today," he murmured, "Come to me when you've decided what you want."

Suhad's first instinct following his departure was to throw together what few belongings she had and flee Thebes immediately. She had already endured more heartbreak than she could possibly imagine. The last thing Suhad wanted to do was to rush headlong into yet _more_ of it. Every inclination she had towards self-preservation screamed that matters would only worsen if she remained. She was terrified that she and Tutankhamun might eventually destroy each other if they didn't somehow find the strength to let go.

But then she remembered his words to her, the question she had left unanswered. _The love between us was never easily attained... Why should you expect it now?_ He had a valid point. When she met him the first time forces beyond their control had sent them careening in opposite directions before they'd even had an opportunity to learn one another's names. They should have never crossed paths again and yet they did. And when she finally did find him again he was _literally_ dying. Following his recovery, there had been secrets and intrigue and constant danger and yet their love had flourished and deepened despite all those challenges.

She knew they had something rare and special. The very fact that they found each other and fell in love was a feat all its own. Was she truly willing to let it go so easily, to run home and hide because she was too afraid to deal with the complications associated with loving the Pharaoh of Egypt? And what did she think would happen once Tutankhamun learned of their child's existence? No force on earth would keep him from her. He would likely chase her to the far reaches of the continent to claim what was his and then they would be right back where they started only then there would be mistrust between them.

Obviously, Tutankhamun was willing to fight for them. Here he was the one with the most to lose and yet _he_ was the one willing to risk everything. Surely she could take a leap of faith as well, particularly when he was in the more difficult position. Although, Tutankhamun credited her with being the one to instill him with courage, it was often _his_ acts of bravery which spurred _her_ into action. They were symbiotic in that way, one another's strength and light, better together than they were apart.

Long before she even realized she had made her decision, Suhad began making the winding trek to his bedchamber, formulating all she wanted to tell him along the way. When the large, ornate doors opened and she stepped inside his inner chamber, the servants attending him immediately dispersed upon her entry. Suhad continued to hover near the entrance as he climbed from his bed, wearing only a sleeveless robe of burnished gold that left very little to the imagination and a loin cloth. Suhad made a concerted effort to keep her eyes trained directly on his face when she spoke.

"So...I've given a great deal of consideration to what we spoke about earlier and I believe you have a point. It hasn't ever been easy for us and that has never deterred me because I've always known that we were worth any sacrifice required and I still thi-,"

She never finished the sentence. One moment she was preparing to lay bare her complete heart to Tutankhamun and the next moment she was being yanked against him for a hungry kiss filled with unadulterated need. She moaned into his mouth and instantly melted against him, grasping at the lapels of his robe to steady herself. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once...tangled in her hair, skimming her back and then sweeping lower to pull her hips against his again and again. He dragged his lips down the curve of her neck, kissing, sucking, biting, unable to get his fill of tasting her and touching her.

Her hands went on their own desperate quest as well, first reacquainting themselves with the contours of his body before frantically peeling away the few layers of clothing he had so that she could feel his skin against her own. They stumbled over to his bed in a hapless tangle of arms and legs, unwilling to suspend their frenzied kisses even for an instant. Suhad pulled him into the bed after her, opening herself to him fully. Tutankhamun settled perfectly into the space she made for him, so eager for her that he did not even bother removing her gauzy nightgown. The moment he finally joined his body to hers was like coming home. Beyond the breath stealing pleasure that always punctuated their lovemaking, he felt safe in Suhad's arms. He felt nurtured. He felt loved. He burrowed himself deeper within her, wanting to get lost there, wanting to never be found.

Suhad grasped at him, his arms, his shoulders, his back, sensing his need and overwhelmed with the same need herself. She strained against him, took him as far as she could, loved him as hard as she could. They communicated without words and, despite the weeks of abstinence between them, rediscovered the rhythm that was theirs alone. They surged against one another in an primal dance of push and pull, joining again and again until one's release triggered the other's and their discordant cries and ragged sighs of pleasure blended into one.

When Suhad finally collapsed on top of him, thoroughly spent and panting, Tutankhamun found that he still could not stop touching her. He kissed her lips, her forehead, her cheek, nuzzling against her until she finally rolled away with an exhausted laugh. Tutankhamun shifted upright against the pillows, his own breathing harsh and labored. But he found that, as his ardor cooled, anxiety once again crept into his subconscious. As much as he wanted to remain there in the afterglow with her, he felt himself overcome by the worries that continued to plague him.

Growing aware of his uncharacteristic silence as well as his brooding expression, Suhad shifted onto her side to regard him with pensive eyes. "You look troubled. What is it?" she whispered in a tentative tone, "I thought you would be happy that I came to you tonight."

He smiled at her, cradled her closer so that she was nestled against his shoulder. "I _am_ happy."

She reached up to smooth the lingering furrow between his eyebrows. "Do you always scowl so fiercely when you are happy?"

"It's not you that makes me despondent," he sighed, "It's everything else."

"Everything like what?"

Although he was reluctant to cast a pall over their reunion, Tutankhamun was grateful that Suhad was willing to provide a listening ear because he needed to talk. "After I left you this morning, Lagus informed me of a secret plot that has been forming among some of the men to free General Horemheb and stage a coup against me."

Suhad reached up to grasp the hand that lay across her shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, "I know how much it means to you to win the respect and trust of your men. You've worked so hard to earn their loyalty."

"I _have_ earned their loyalty. And for those whose loyalty I have not gained, we will foil their efforts, of course. That's not the point. I'm expected to wage a successful assault against an invading army that grows by the day and I can't even unite my own people. And, if matters weren't grim enough, illness continues to plague my country and it is killing off my citizens in droves."

He expelled a breath filled with irony. "Those who stand with me believe me to be invincible, a living god. And yet, the reality is, I am the target of more enemies than I have friends. I am merely a flawed man with an array insurmountable forces against me that are beyond my control. And all of this because I _dared_ to rule my own kingdom! Amazing that I should be so despised for wanting to live up to my birthright."

"You embrace your responsibilities rather than running away from them. That desire is exactly what makes you a great leader and what gives you strength."

"Not enough."

Suhad propped herself up on her elbow, reaching forward to tenderly smooth errant strands of hair behind his ear. "Do you remember what you told me when we were on the dunes together?"

He favored her with a half smile. "I told you many things, mostly about how much I detested the sand. You'll have to be more specific."

Her playful growl only caused his grin to widen. "You said that you wanted to be remembered as a great pharaoh," Suhad recounted, "Greatness cannot only be seen in the eyes of people, but it must be seen in the eyes of your enemies as well."

"And how can I accomplish that with an enemy who refuses to see it?"

"Offer them something of mutual benefit," she advised, "Bridge your differences and turn your enemies into allies instead. That, my love, would be a measure of great strength and the mark of a great Pharaoh."

"How do you know these things?" Tutankhamun wondered in awe.

"My father often says that reasonable men will always respond to reason," she told him, "I've never found that to be untrue."

Tutankhamun closed his eyes briefly as he digested all the wisdom he'd received. "I will think about what you've said tonight. Thank you...for the advice and for coming to me. I am glad you are here."

Suhad rewarded his sincere words with a sound kiss before snuggling back against him. With his heart unburdened, she thought that he might fall asleep soon after but she was surprised when he shattered the comfortable silence between them a moment later when he remarked, "Now that I've shared with you my most unsettling thoughts perhaps you can do the same." Suhad went perfectly still against him, her breath briefly suspended in her lungs as she waited for his next statement. "I know that something is troubling you," he went on gently, "You were going to tell me that night when we...when I..."

He trailed off into silence in an effort to compose himself. He did not want to remind her or himself of that night he spent with Ankhesenamun. He also did not want to derail the discussion by dredging up bad memories for them both. When he spoke again, his words were much steadier. "I understand why you didn't tell me then but that is behind us now. You can talk to me, Suhad."

"I want to tell you," she whispered after a pregnant pause, "but it is not an easy truth to confess. It's going to change everything and matters between us are already delicate enough."

"Is it about us?" he wondered, breath bated as he awaited her response.

"In a manner of speaking."

"Do you...do you not love me as you once did?" he stumbled.

She angled an adoring look up at him. "Of course, I love you! It has nothing to do with that."

He exhaled a relieved breath. "Then whatever it is that is troubling you, it cannot be so terrible."

"It's not...and it is," Suhad replied cryptically, "I just...I cannot tell you just yet. The words are there but every time I try to voice them out loud, I can't bring them forth. The timing is wrong."

"And when will the timing be right? Whatever secret you are keeping is causing you to pull away from me and I don't know if I can endure that again."

"I couldn't endure it either. At least now you know there is a secret."

"But you won't tell me what it is. So what comfort should I take in that?"

"My silence will not be indefinite. I will tell you when this business with the Mitanni and the general is finally settled," she promised. Suhad lay back down against his chest, oddly comforted by the constant thumping of his heart. "Once you can afford the distraction and you are free from the threat of your enemies, which will hopefully be soon, then there will no longer be any secrets between us, not then nor in the future. Can you wait until that time?"

She felt him press an agreeable kiss to the crown of her head. "If that is what you need, my love, then yes. I can wait."


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter Sixteen**

Tutankhamun admired a sleeping Suhad in the filtering morning light with a pensive, half smile.

There was something different about her. The thought had been nagging at him for several weeks now. While Tutankhamun acknowledged that some time had passed since he had been intimately acquainted with her, he also recognized that his memory of her body's contours had not at all dimmed. There were definitely inexplicable changes in her body that both fascinated and confused him. Not only did he notice the differences but he could see that those differences were becoming more and more pronounced with each passing day.

In the past, he might not have noticed at all. In all his years of intimacy with women, beyond satisfying his lust, Tutankhamun had never paid particularly rapt attention to a woman's body. They were, most often, briefly enjoyed and then forgotten. He was never with them long enough to memorize any particular feature about them nor had he ever had the desire. Suhad was altogether different. He knew every sleek line and gentle curve of her, had kissed and caressed her most secret places on more than one occasion. He could map out her beauty marks and blemishes and childhood scars with his eyes closed.

And, because he knew her so well, Tutankhamun did not easily miss the newfound fullness in her breasts or their responsive sensitivity. He noted with speculative interest the subtle flaring of her hips as well as the convex rounding that swelled just above her pelvic bone and the glowing health of her hair and skin. Tutankhamun wasn't at all sure what all of it meant but he knew what he suspected.

He splayed his hand across her lower abdomen with a gentle smile. There were times when he lay with her in the quiet hours of the night with his hand pressed against her belly just as it was now that he could swear he detected some telltale movement, a fleeting thump... Sometimes it was so faint and so quick that he thought he must have imagined it. And, when Suhad would continue on sleeping, as if nothing untoward had happened at all, he began to consider that perhaps he had. After all, he wasn't an expert. This was all unchartered territory for him.

Beyond the part that he took in the actual conception, Tutankhamun knew very little of childbearing and had even less interest in learning about such matters. What he did know was rudimentary and crude at best and could be summarized succinctly. If a woman of childbearing age she menstrual blood then she was not with child and if a woman of childbearing age did _not_ have a menstruation then she would most certainly bear a child. Simplistic, perhaps, but fairly accurate. Considering the mounting evidence, his own instincts and, most pertinently the fact that Tutankhamun could not remember a single time Suhad had bled in the last six months, he was strongly inclined to believe he was right. That left only the question of why Suhad had yet to say anything.

Granted, he was no more an expert on the mechanisms of a woman's menses than he was on conception and pregnancy itself. His limited experience in a woman's monthly cycle of bleeding mostly centered around his vague knowledge of Ankhesenamun's habits. Usually during those times his sister would shut herself away in her bedchamber anywhere from three days to an entire week. She would be quite moody and withdrawn and, sometimes, even ill during that time but, once her time had finally passed, life would resume as normal.

He had been living in close quarters with Suhad since returning to Thebes. Though they officially had separate bedchambers and barring the few weeks they had been in discord, they almost always spent their nights together. He had become very familiar with her habits both at bedtime and during her morning routine. Not once, in all that time, had Suhad ever behaved in a manner remotely close to how Ankhesenamun had...at least, not that he could recall. Even with the weeks of their brief separation that had to be accounted for Tutankhamun remained convicted. He had watched her closely even then and he had noticed nothing untoward.

Tutankhamun wondered, and not for the first time either, whether his child was growing inside of Suhad at that very moment. The theory made sense. The changes in her mood and appetite. The inordinate amount of time she spent napping. The undeniable metamorphosis her body was plainly undergoing. The secret she believed too big to share with him. He wanted to ask her directly but he hesitated, partly due to fear of crossing some heretofore undefined line that led into a sacred domain meant only for women and partly because he had no idea how they would proceed if she was with child.

And then there was also the niggling fear that he might be wrong. Could he withstand the possible disappointment that was to follow? Could Suhad? Or would there be encompassing relief because having a child amidst so much upheaval seemed like an unwise prospect? What if asking the question alone provoked in them unspoken desires that could not be easily fulfilled at present? While the idea of creating a child with Suhad filled Tutankhamun with unrestrained joy and a strange sense of excitement that he could not remember feeling before, he also recognized that the timing was not optimal.

As of yet, he still had not informed Ankhesenamun of his intention to elevate Suhad to queen and return her to her rightful place as _princess_ of Egypt. It was evident by now that the gods would never grant her a child and, perhaps, that was truly what they intended and the reason they had led Suhad to him in the first place. Tutankhamun firmly believed that but he knew Ankhesenamun would reject the theory entirely. He knew that, no matter how gently he broke the news to her or what flowery words he used or how convicted he was in his faith that all was happening as the gods intended, Ankhesenamun would be livid. He fully expected her resistance and fury because she would view his decision as nothing less than his rejection of her as queen. She would fail to understand that he was simply trying to embrace her as a _sister_ instead.

Given the turmoil he knew that would unleash, Tutankhamun recognized that he could not tell Ankhesenamun anything of his intentions until his enemies had been dealt with first. He couldn't let himself become preoccupied with attempts to quell her murderous rage when his kingdom was on the verge of being conquered. One month, that was all he needed to set matters straight.

Tutankhamun estimated that within the next month he would have accomplished his plans in full. General Horemheb and his planned rebellion would be vanquished and the Mitanni would hopefully no longer prove to be a threat. Only _then_ would he marry Suhad. And _then_ , if they had not already, they would conceive a child together as heir to his throne.

Suhad shifted in her sleep then, exposing the soft swells of her bare breasts to his avid eyes as she did so and thoroughly distracting him from any further thoughts on the matter. He lowered his head to nuzzle against her warm skin, coaxing her into gradual wakefulness with the slow, circling demands of his tongue. Afterwards, when his desire for her had been satiated for the moment, Suhad watched with sleepy eyes when he reluctantly rolled from the bed and shrugged into his discarded robe.

"Will I see you later?" she yawned.

He bent forward to press a kiss to her temple through the rumpled curls of her hair. "I should return by the evening," he replied, "Have you some means of entertaining yourself in my absence?"

"Nahkt has agreed to take me into the market place today. I'm to teach him how to haggle. He's never done it before." Tutankhamun grunted at that, his expression sour and mildly envious. Suhad bit back a knowing smile. "Come now, you're not going to begrudge me my only friend here, are you?" she tsked.

"He's not your only friend. You have Lagus."

"Whom I see only _slightly_ more than I see you," she replied grumpily.

"Just...promise me that you will guard yourself with him. Remember that Nahkt is the Vizier's son. You cannot trust him fully, Suhad."

"He's nothing like his father. He's not after his own interests. He truly wants me to feel welcome here."

"Or so he would have you believe."

Suhad flopped onto her back to regard him with a speculative look. "You _do_ believe me when I tell you there is nothing between us, do you not?"

"Of course."

"Then...are you sure you aren't being a tiny bit jealous at the moment?"

"I'm being cautious," Tutankhamun sighed in clarification, "Beware of giving your trust too easily."

"What a contradiction you are. You warn me to maintain my guard with Nahkt and yet you continue to trust his father implicitly. How do you reconcile the disparity?"

"That is where you are wrong, my love," he countered softly before dropping an affectionate kiss to the tip of her nose, "I do not trust Vizier Ay at all."

Two hours later, Tutankhamun was seated upon his throne while Lagus and Ay briefed him on their latest strides in intercepting General Horemheb's escape plans as well as devising a counterattack. "They intend to wait until the day of his execution," Lagus informed him, "and then there will be an uprising."

"We should dispose of him now," Ay advised, "before his treasonous plot can even begin to unfold."

"I cannot do that," Tutankhamun replied, "To do so would only cause Horemheb to become a martyr in the people's eyes. He _will_ die, Ay, but only when it is clear to everyone what a treasonous criminal he truly is."

"And the Mitanni?" Ay prompted, "They continue to gather their forces. I have no doubt King Tushratta prepares even now to move against us."

"I am devising a plan to deal with the Mitanni," the pharaoh said, "Once I have spoken with the queen, I will inform you of the details."

"Of course, my lord."

"You may leave me now." However, as Ay and Lagus started to turn away to fulfill the command, Tutankhamun said, "Lagus, please stay behind a moment. I would like to have a word with you. _In private_ ," he added on meaningfully when it looked as if Ay might linger. "You are dismissed, Vizier."

Ay respectfully lowered his eyes as he scooted obediently for the exit. "Yes, my king."

"Be careful, my lord," Lagus warned once they were alone, "If the Vizier believes that you have begun to devalue his counsel, he could become a very dangerous enemy. I do not trust him. Maintain your guard."

Tutankhamun flicked his hand in a dismissive wave. "Ay is the least of my concerns at present, Lagus."

"You worried about the illness that continues to spread across the country."

"More and more of the people succumb. The healers have proved to be ineffective against it. No medicine can cure it. Evidently, the gods cannot be bothered to intervene on our behalf. Soon, it _will_ overrun Thebes, in spite of my best efforts. If something is not done soon, the Mitanni will undoubtedly take advantage of our weakened state and annihilate us."

"You implied to the Vizier that you have a plan in mind. I will hear it if you are inclined to divulge it at this time."

"Not a plan exactly," Tutankhamun murmured, "More like an alliance. I am going to propose a marriage alliance between Egypt and the Mitanni and pray that it meets with success."

"But what could you possibly hope to gain through a marriage alliance with your enemy?"

"Survival. We are weakened, not only by illness but a divided army with dwindling numbers and they are starving and without any provisions to replace what they have lost. They can hardly provide for themselves much less those joining within their ranks. That is the very reason they fight so hard to take hold of the fertile land along the Nile. Both of our nations are hurting in different ways. Perhaps, we can mutually benefit one another instead."

"That is a prudent undertaking although fraught with many variables," Lagus considered, "Your enemy must also have the ability to see the situation as practically as you do. However, the reasoning is sound. Dare I ask, who inspired this particular strategy?"

Tutankhamun lifted his shoulders in a light shrug, managing to bite back his answering smile. "She gives good counsel," he replied simply, "You know that."

"Indeed, I am well aware that she does, my lord," Lagus agreed, "But you are wise not to advertise that fact to others."

"I know it. My enemies would gladly use it against me...as they do already."

"I _did_ warn you..." Lagus reminded him.

"You did."

" _But_ ," he added meaningfully, "it was obviously the right choice for you. Suhad makes you happy. A blind man could see it."

"Yes. She does make me happy. I have never known anyone, _man or woman_ , like her. And when this business is concluded, I have every intention of making her my queen."

"That will not be an easy undertaking, my lord."

"I am aware, which is why I am counting on _your_ support, my friend."

"You will always have it."

"And what if I told you...?" Tutankhamun paused, trailing off into preoccupied silence as he attempted to formulate his next words to Lagus.

"What is it, my lord?"

"What if I told you that Suhad and I had conceived a child together? What would you say?" Lagus was clearly stunned by the question and had a difficult time covering his dubious reaction. As Tutankhamun watched the commander struggle to regain his composure, he said, "Don't tickle my ears. Tell me what you truly think."

"Given all that is happening and what a dangerous era this has become for you _and_ for her, the timing is...rather unfortunate," Lagus managed as diplomatically as he could, "Are you certain?"

"No, I'm not certain at all. It's merely a suspicion on my part. Suhad has said nothing of the sort but, I cannot dismiss my instincts on this. I feel I am right."

"And if you're not? If Suhad has not confirmed it for you then why beg trouble where there is none, my lord?" Lagus posited wisely, "You have enough with which to contend without adding the complication of a child, which would surely be perceived as a threat by your enemies, to the issues at hand. Concentrate on subduing your enemies first. When all of this is settled, _then_ you shall turn your attention to the business of making children with the woman you love."

Once his meeting was finished with Lagus, Tutankhamun had little time to meditate on his friend's wise counsel because he needed to prepare himself both mentally and emotionally to face his sister. He had pointedly avoided all unnecessary conversation with Ankhesenamun following the night he had shown up at her bedchamber unbidden and had, without preamble, dragged her into bed. That night anger, despair and hopelessness had been the driving force behind his actions and when it was all over he felt lower than he had an the onset. Ankhesenamun, on the other, had been pleased at his apparent change of heart. She had even invited him to stay so that they could confide in one another like they had in times past, but Tutankhamun had been eager to leave, feeling too disgusted with himself and with her to remain in her presence.

His stomach churned sickeningly with the memory as he approached her chambers now, though he was careful to keep his features neutral to conceal the unrest he felt inside. He would simply tell her of his plans and then take his leave. How difficult would that prove to be?

Upon his entrance, Ankhesenamun offered him a welcoming smile and dismissed her servants so that they might speak in private. She closed the distance between them without hesitation, enfolding him in a brief embrace and bestowing a sisterly kiss to his cheek. She seemed not to notice how he stiffened at her proximity.

"It is good to see you, brother. I'm surprised that you are here," she said, "You've been rather determined to avoid me since our night together."

"Let us not speak of that night," Tutankhamun managed uncomfortably.

"Should I not wonder what prompted your sudden change of heart?" Ankhesenamun wondered, "Or what caused you to be so very fierce and demanding that night...almost as if you were trying to purge yourself of something...or _someone_." He growled her name in warning. "Come now. I am your sister. I know when something troubles you. I only seek to help you."

"I do not wish to discuss it. I granted your request. Is that not enough?"

"Forgive me for being hurt that you've practically ignored me all these weeks. I did not force you to come to me, Tutankhamun!"

"I know. My apologies. I've been preoccupied lately."

"Does that mean that you are ready to discuss the state of our kingdom...and our marriage?"

"I'm here to discuss how we can possibly save ourselves from the Mitanni and, namely, _preserve_ this kingdom."

Ankhesenamun sat down onto her settee. "I'm listening."

"I want to propose a marriage alliance between Herit and the Mitanni prince."

His sister blinked at him incredulously. "What did you say? You want to do _what_?"

"I cannot fight a war against an army that size while the half of mine that is _not_ treasonous succumbs to illness," Tutankhamun argued, "This could help us avoid annihilation."

"I'm trying to understand, brother. You are saying that you wish to form an alliance with the Mitanni, _our sworn enemy_ , and you want to use our cousin to do it?"

"King Tushratta has an unwed son. Herit would become a powerful Queen and an ally to Egypt. It could unite our lands and ultimately build this empire."

Ankhesenamun digested his suggestion with narrowed eyes full of suspicion. "Who really is it that makes this proposal to me now?" she demanded, "Is it my brother, the Pharaoh of Egypt or is it his Mitanni whore?"

"Do not call her that!" Tutankhamun bit out sharply, "Never again!"

With the flaring of his temper, so did hers. Ankhesenamun surged to her feet and rounded on him in hissing rage. "And do not pretend that this sudden revelation you've had dawn upon you was not at all influenced by _her_!"

Refusing to be sucked into yet another circular argument with her, Tutankhamun regarded her with inscrutable eyes, bridling his emotions once more and choosing to ignore the wild accusation altogether. "I know that this will be done with great sacrifice to you. I realize that Herit is your favorite of our cousins."

"What are you thinking, brother?" she wondered tiredly, "Have you no idea what your own people are saying about you? They question your devotion to Egypt due to your devotion to her! You are alienating your people and creating the very divisions you are seeking to bridge! How can you allow her to influence you so thoroughly?" She took his face between her hands, forcing his impassive stare to her impassioned one. "It has _always_ been the two of us since we were children. You and I. No one could divide us and now nothing remains as it once was! When did you abandon me? When did I lose you?"

He jerked from her hold, his carefully constructed facade of calm slipping a notch as his anger flared. "When did _I_ abandon _you_?" he scoffed, "Perhaps you should first ask yourself when _you_ abandoned _me_! How many times did you lie with Ka while I hovered on the precipice of death? How eager were you to help him claim what was rightfully mine?"

"It always comes right back to that, doesn't it? I _grieved_ for you! I have never wished you dead, Tutankhamun! You are my brother and I love you! I had _nothing_ to do with the plot against you!"

"But you did carry on with him for months, did you not?" Ankhesenamun jerked her eyes aside with a guilty wince. "Did you think me ignorant or blind to the happenings in my own house? I'm not a fool, Ankhesenamun, though you have attempted to make me one again and again."

"And so now this is your way of punishing me...because I _dared_ to love another?" she concluded thickly, "By taking away all that I hold dear piece by piece, by shoving your _Mitanni_ lover beneath my nose and taunting me?"

"No. That is not what I'm doing. I want to preserve this kingdom and nothing more."

"You cannot even see how thoroughly she clouds your judgment and I fear that we will lose everything before you finally realize it."

Tutankhamun squared his shoulders, recognizing that nothing more could be gained through their exchange. "I will give you the remainder of the evening to come to terms with my proposal and say your goodbyes to Herit," he said, starting for the exit, "I should want her to leave for her journey shortly after first light, sister."

"Exactly what sort of future do you expect you can have with her?" Ankhesenamun demanded at his back, "She's a peasant! She's completely ignorant of our customs here! She's not even of pure Egyptian blood! She's nothing, brother, and _no one_."

"She's mine, Ankhesenamun," he told her in parting, his tone both resolute and simultaneously filled with steely admonition, "She is _mine_."


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Chapter Seventeen**

"I still cannot believe you bit into a raw onion as if it were nothing more than a freshly picked apple," Nahkt chuckled with a mock shudder as he and Suhad walked back towards the palace together.

"How can you truly appreciate the taste of food if you've cooked away all of the natural properties before you've even taken a bite? And let us not forget to mention the medicinal purposes of a raw onion."

Nahkt made quite a production of gagging. "Ugh, revolting! I'd rather be ill."

Suhad threw back her head and laughed, reaching over to give him a playful shove. It was a silly argument they'd been having since departing the marketplace a short time ago. Really, the subject matter was of no consequence in the grand scheme of things but, at present, the lighthearted distraction was _exactly_ the thing she needed.

General Horemheb was to be executed for treason in less than an hour and his final act of sedition against his king would die with him. Suhad contemplated that reality with mixed emotion. On the one hand, the man was a traitor, not only to his Pharaoh but to his nation, and was meeting his just end. He had left his king to die to further his own ambitions and death was the price he must pay for his folly. On the other hand, that same man was a brilliant military tactician and a mighty warrior who might very well be their only protection against the army which was seeking Egypt's destruction. His death could serve to be both a blessing...and a curse.

Since Tutankhamun's cousin, Herit, had been sent to the Mitanni territory as a bridge and peace offering, no word had been heard from the enemy camp at all. Tutankhamun had no way of knowing if his proposal had been received favorably or not. Of course, there was the hope that Prince Ti'sata would be agreeable to making Herit his wife and, if that were so, then Egypt might finally know peace. In addition, Suhad and Tutankhamun would finally have the opportunity to go forward with their plans to be married.

Regardless of the outcome, Suhad had already made up her mind that she would tell Tutankhamun of her pregnancy that very night. While she recognized that the timing remained less than optimal, after a week of blissful perfection with him, she could no longer keep the news to herself. There was that and also the odd sense Suhad sometimes had that Tutankhamun would be amiable to the idea, that somehow he had already discerned the truth...

He took more than the usual care with her of late, so much so that his actions had become nothing less than doting in the past week. Even his lovemaking had acquired a tempered edge, no less impassioned and eager but infinitely more tender than it had been previously. He handled her with delicate care, as if he feared she might break...or as if he was protecting something precious. Still, whether he truly suspected already or not, Suhad was more than eager to confirm matters and set aside all secrets between them. She didn't expect it would be easy for them following, particularly if the queen's mounting scorn was any indication.

Ankhesenamun had made it abundantly clear that she held Suhad personally responsible for Herit being sent to the Mitanni as a peace offering. It had mattered little that the decree had come directly from the Pharaoh himself. The queen counted Suhad as the source. "Should anything happen to her," Ankhesenamun had warned Suhad when they were alone, "I will exact the price of her blood from you until there is _nothing_ left." Presently, Suhad shivered at the memory because she recognized that the queen's threat had not been idle. Should the situation turn unfavorable, Suhad had no doubts that Ankhesenamun would actively seek her destruction. Without any real effort on her part, she had made a lasting enemy for herself.

It was yet another detail that Suhad kept from Tutankhamun and she wasn't entirely certain she would ever share it. He had so little to cling to as it was, Suhad did not want to take away one more thing from him. Despite all her faults and possessiveness, Tutankhamun loved his sister deeply and he was still determined to protect her interests. Suhad was well aware that he felt personally responsible for Ankhesenamun's unhappiness and that his actions towards her were motivated by a desire to undo the damage that he perceived he had done to her. Tutankhamun wanted desperately to maintain peace with Ankhesenamun, a peace that would certainly be shattered should the queen's threat against Suhad become known to him.

The rift that existed between the pharaoh and his sister would inevitably widen, which could even threaten the stability of the kingdom if it became severe enough. Egypt was already perched upon a precarious precipice. A blood feud between Tutankhamun and Ankhesenamun could _not_ be the tipping point. Thus, Suhad decided to hold her tongue. She did not want to find herself at the center of a civil war between Egypt's two ruling powers. But mostly, she did not want to see Tutankhamun lose yet another person he loved.

Suhad was mostly unaware of her wandering thoughts until Nahkt reached over and poked her in the arm. She jerked a startled look to his smiling face. "I lost you for a bit there," he teased, "Have you run out of arguments in favor of the raw onion? Shall we move on to raw garlic instead?"

She growled at him in feigned annoyance before favoring him with an apologetic smile. "I didn't intend to drift off like that. I suppose I have a great deal on my mind today."

"You mean because General Horemheb is to be executed within the hour?"

"That is part of it."

Nahkt surveyed her with a quizzical frown. "Why did you not remain at the palace to show your support for the Pharaoh?"

"He did not ask me."

Suhad failed to mention that Tutankhamun had specifically requested that she leave the palace that morning because he feared his enemies would make her a target. So there was also that concern which was adding to Suhad's stress but not due to worry for herself. She feared for Tutankhamun because she knew his adversaries meant to make an attempt on his life that day.

"How does the Pharaoh feel, by the way," Nahkt wondered casually, "about you and I enjoying such frequent excursions together?"

"He doesn't like it," Suhad replied without preface, "but he tolerates it because he knows that I like spending time with you and that it makes me happy. How does _your father_ feel about it?"

Nahkt flashed her a wry grin. "He doesn't like it, but he tolerates it."

Suhad shook her head at the irony. "What a pair you and I are!"

"Well, at least my father cannot have you beheaded if he becomes too excessively aggravated with you," Nahkt reasoned, half teasing, half serious, "The same cannot be said of the Pharaoh."

Her laughter abruptly dissipated at that because the thin thread of worry in his tone was obvious. Suhad stopped to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder and said with quiet solemnity, "You must know that he would never do such a thing. You have nothing to fear from him, Nahkt."

He shook off her hand, his expression becoming aloof as he resumed walking. "You don't know him as well as you think, Suhad." She halted mid-step and whipped to face him again, pinning him with a sharpened glare filled affronted incredulity. Though he fidgeted a bit under her penetrating glower, Nahkt did not retreat from his stance but met her incensed eyes squarely. "You forget that I was raised in the palace. The Pharaoh and I practically grew up together. My own father is the one who raised him. In truth, he was so preoccupied rearing the prince and princess, it left very little time for me."

Suhad relaxed a bit at the subtle notes of bitterness she detected in Nahkt's tone. "What of your mother?" she asked softly, "Were you close? You've never spoken of her."

"She died when I was little. I barely have any memories of her at all. It has always been my father and I...or at least it was until I was eleven and young prince Tutankhaten became Pharaoh of Egypt."

"You think he stole your father from you?" Suhad discerned quietly.

"I think he is selfish and entitled and he knows little about what it means to be Pharaoh of Egypt."

"Do you blame him? He's only just beginning to learn. For years his own advisers, _your father_ included, manipulated and lied to him in order to steal his kingdom. Everything that he has gained thus far has been by the strength of his own will!"

"Is that what _he_ told you?"

"It's what I _see_."

"It's true that my father can be controlling by nature. I won't deny it. But, if our Pharaoh has given you any reason to believe that he had anything more than cursory interest in this kingdom prior to his nineteenth birthday then he is misleading you," Nahkt said, "His two main priorities have always been satisfying his own desires and securing an heir to continue his bloodline."

"You don't sound as if you like him very much," Suhad observed thoughtfully.

He stopped short, his expression becoming wary and guarded. "Perhaps, I've spoken too freely with you," he murmured, "I sometimes forget how closely you are involved with him."

"Nahkt, do not be that way. If you cannot speak your mind to me then what point is there for us to call ourselves friends? I've never hesitated when telling you exactly what I think of your father, have I?"

He emitted a small snort of derisive laughter. "No. Not at all. Your unbridled tongue is one of the things I like most about you."

Suhad ducked her head and chuckled briefly. "I suppose I could be a little less abrasive when stating my opinion," she considered.

"Is that even possible?" he teased.

"The point is," Suhad pressed on doggedly, "I don't mince words with you and neither should you censor yourself with me. I want you to be honest with me...even if I don't agree with your observations."

"And you don't agree?"

"No, I don't. The man you are describing is not the man I know. Tutankhamun is neither selfish nor entitled! That description cannot be further from who he is! People change, Nahkt."

"Those within the Egyptian royal house do not change, Suhad," Nahkt warned, "Power is a corrupting influence. The pharaoh's first choice will always be his obligation to his ancestral line, no matter what he tells you."

That ominous prediction was still echoing in the back of Suhad's mind when they arrived at the palace a short time later. Immediately, upon entering the gates, they found themselves amid what could only be described as chaos. People scurried about in all directions in the courtyard while soldiers did what they could to coax them into some semblance of order. Suhad and Nahkt were jostled about in the crowd, barely spared an instant to gain their bearings or ask any questions before they were descended upon by palace guards and swiftly ushered inside. Once within the palace walls, they were dragged in separate directions as Nahkt was taken to his father and Suhad was taken to her chambers with only vague instructions to wait there for further news.

However, as she had been hustled through the marbled corridors, it had been impossible for Suhad to drown out the grief-stricken keening that had reverberated through the intricately decorated palace halls. Whispers among the servants confirmed that it was Ankhesenamun who was weeping. Suhad could think of only a few scenarios that would leave the young queen so devastated and all of them involved Tutankhamun. Her heart was pounding with fear and anxiety by the time she reached her chambers and those emotions were only heightened by the servants' reluctance to volunteer any information. In truth, however, Suhad wasn't at all certain she _wanted_ to know.

She had been prowling the interior of her bedchamber for nearly an hour, growing more and more restless as the seconds elapsed when she suddenly spied a flash of color from the corner of her eye. Unfortunately, her hope that Tutankhamun had finally come to her died a quick death when she whirled about and found a worried Nahkt standing there instead. For some inexplicable reason, the disappointment she felt over that was the very thing that broke Suhad's tenuous hold on her emotions. She immediately burst into tears as every grim possibility and fear she held for Tutankhamun's well-being began to run rampant in her mind.

Nahkt rushed forward to gather a crying Suhad in his arms, alarmed by her sudden and emotionally volatile breakdown. She clung to him and buried her face in his tunic, her body heaving with the force of her sobs. "He's not dead, is he, Nahkt?" she wept brokenly, "Please tell me I have not lost him!"

"The Pharaoh lives," Nahkt confirmed softly, "But his cousin Herit is no more. The Mitanni returned her body bound and impaled on a spear with a clear message that there is to be no alliance with Egypt."

Suhad gulped down the remainder of her tears and lifted her tear-stained face from Nahkt's tunic. "What did you say?"

"Herit is dead."

"Oh no..." Suhad tore from his embrace with a soundless gasp at the brutal mental image and clamped a hand over her mouth in a vain attempt to hold back the bile that suddenly rose in her throat. She raced for the chamber pot and emptied the full contents of her stomach into it. She was still dry heaving when Nahkt came to kneel beside her with a goblet of water. Suhad gratefully plucked the cup from his hands and rinsed her mouth before wilting back against the wall in a trembling heap.

"I hadn't imagined you would be this upset," he said, "Did you know Herit well?"

"I didn't know her at all...only that she was the queen's favorite cousin and her closest companion."

"She was indeed. They hardly ever out of each other's company. The queen is understandably distraught at this time."

The words barely registered for Suhad. She leaned her head back into the cool marble wall and closed her eyes. "And now she will blame me..."

"Why would she blame you?" Nahkt asked with a puzzled frown. Although, Suhad said nothing in response to the question, her guilt-stricken expression was answer enough. Nahkt's expression gradually became unreadable. "So it _is_ true what my father says about you," he whispered, "You _do_ hold influence the Pharaoh."

"It's not how you imagine at all."

"Then how is it? Did you have him act in Egypt's favor when you suggested to him that Herit be sent into the Mitanni camp...or was it for the Mitanni's benefit so that they could know we are weak?"

Suhad shrank back from him in hurt disbelief. "I can't believe you would ask me such a thing! I thought we were friends."

"We _are_ friends. But do not pretend there are sides of yourself that you keep hidden from me, Suhad."

"And that truly puzzles you?" she snapped in affront, "Why ever would I make myself vulnerable when you evidently think I would deliberately send a woman to her death to benefit the enemy!"

"I did not say that. But that is what some believe."

"You mean that is what your father believes!" Suhad spat, "And now you give merit to his words!"

"If you tell me I am wrong then I will believe you," he said, "but, given the circumstances, I _had_ to ask the question. Surely you know that."

"Can you not grasp the gravity of what has transpired here today?" she cried a little impatiently, "If _proof_ is what you require in order to convince yourself of my innocence then I cannot provide it for you, Nahkt! You either trust me or you don't!"

"My father has uttered similar words to me in the past...most often when he's being duplicitous."

Suhad shook her head, unable to deal with his petulant displeasure right then. "Please, Nahkt, I cannot have you turn against me now. I need to see Tutankhamun. You must help me find the Pharaoh. I need you to take me to him."

"There is no need. I am here."

Both Nahkt and Suhad scrambled to their feet in surprise to find Tutankhamun standing between the two large pillars at the entrance of her bedchamber, less than twenty feet away from them. He looked exhausted and defeated and his expression was vaguely haunted but otherwise he appeared healthy. Tutankhamun and Suhad met one another's eyes across the distance in a silent stare before he flicked a dismissive glance at Nahkt, barely acknowledging the other man at all except to say, "Leave us now."

Something dangerous flickered in Nahkt's eyes before he quickly composed himself and turned to Suhad and murmured, "Promise me we will talk later. I want to explain."

"I don't know if we have anything more to say to each other, Nahkt."

Once he had departed, albeit reluctantly, Suhad quickly moved forward to enfold Tutankhamun in a tight embrace, her tears welling anew when he hugged her back with equal fierceness. "Nahkt told me what happened," she whispered, "I never imagined they would be capable of something so vile." She pulled back a bit so that she could see his face when she asked, "How is the queen?"

"Calmer," he answered gruffly, "She's resting now."

"Does she blame you for what's happened?" Suhad wondered thickly.

"I blame myself. My sister has suffered many losses of late, most of them at my hand."

"You are not responsible for this."

" _I_ am the one who sent Herit to her death."

"But it was the advice _I_ gave you..." she mumbled in a suffocated tone, "If you blame me for..."

He swept up her hands and pressed fervent kisses to the backs of each one. "No. I do not. It was sound advice. The Mitanni's failure to see the benefit in an alliance does not make it less so. In fact, I plan to use a similar strategy when it comes to General Horemheb, who, despite his many flaws, possesses the ability to see all sides."

"He's still alive?"

Tutankhamun jerked a terse nod. "Herit's body was delivered by rider-less chariot before his sentence could be carried out. The timing proved to be fortuitous as I have come to realize that I cannot thwart a Mitanni invasion without him."

"So he shall be pardoned for betraying his duty and leaving you to die?" Suhad burst out incredulously.

"No. His fate will be decided when Egypt is free of the Mitanni threat."

"And then?"

"And then we will see."

"Is that what you want?"

"That is how it must be."

"I understand. It seems that you have matters in order then," Suhad murmured, noting the tension that continued to linger in his body and expression, "But, if that is so, why do you look as though you have yet more unhappy news to share?"

He flinched at her perceptive observation, his heart thumping heavily with dread over the hurt he knew he was about to deal her. "I need to tell you something and you will likely find it upsetting."

"What is it?" Suhad asked warily, even as every instinct she had told her she should remain ignorant.

"Ankhesenamun...she is with child," Tutankhamun announced flatly, "Evidently, she conceived that night we were together. She gave me the news a short time ago when I went to comfort her over Herit."

Suhad stumbled back a step. "What?"

"She is consumed with grief over all she has lost...Ka...Herit...her perceived place in my life and she has rested all of her hopes on this child...on the prospect of bearing me an heir that will solidify our kingdom and I could not-,"

"-you didn't tell her, did you?" Suhad concluded hoarsely before he could continue, "You said nothing of our plans to her at all?"

"How could I? This changes _everything_ , Suhad."

"No, it doesn't! You asked me to stay. You promised me that you would make me your wife, that you would make me your _queen_!"

"We both know you've never truly cared for such titles nor did you truly want it."

"That's beside the point!"

"I still have every intention of making you my wife. That has not changed."

"But _she_ will remain your queen and your first obligation and that was not your promise to me!"

"The circumstances are complicated at this time. I cannot very well remove Ankhesenamun as queen when she carries my child!"

"How very convenient for her," Suhad spat scornfully.

"You did not see her, Suhad. I have never known her to be so broken. She is overwhelmed with grief and loss. She virtually _begged_ me to stand beside her in support. Her greatest fear is that I will abandon her and leave her unprotected. What could I do? I did not wish to leave her vulnerable to my enemies or cause her further pain!"

Suhad raised her glittering stare to his imploring one. "Yet, you have no such reluctance against leaving _me_ vulnerable and causing _me_ pain! I'm to simply stiffen my back while being pushed aside for a child conceived from your indiscretion!"

"You know that is not true. I _loathe_ hurting you. It is _killing_ me to have you look at me the way you are looking at me right now. But you are strong, Suhad. My sister does not have your fortitude. If I reject her, she will not survive." He reached out to pull her into his arms, hoping to soothe her tears but she swatted him away angrily. "Don't!" he begged, "...please do not distance yourself from me again!"

"Why do you always think you can take me into your arms and soothe away the pain?" she cried.

"I can try...if you will allow it," he whispered.

Shaking her head in woeful denial of his offer, Suhad hugged her arms around her middle and skirted as far out of his reach as she could. "No. No. Not again. I should have gone home when I first conceived the idea," she muttered to herself again and again, "I knew better. I _knew_ better! I should have returned to Amurru as I originally planned."

"That's not possible now," he told her, "The gates are closed due to the quarantine. It's not safe for you to travel at this time."

Suhad snorted a humorless laugh. "What fortuitous timing, my lord. You've thought of everything." Though it required godlike effort, Suhad gradually composed herself and, after several moments, lifted her expressionless countenance to Tutankhamun. "Congratulations, my king, on your impending fatherhood. Now...if you would please leave me. I wish to be alone."

He reached for her again but then sorrowfully allowed his arms to drop when he recognized that Suhad had no desire to bridge the rift that was rapidly forming between them. "Will you not see _my_ side in all of this? I never anticipated this and I am managing matters as best I can, Suhad! I don't want this to come between us. I love you! Please do not close yourself off from me."

Because she could feel his earnest words already chipping away at the emotional wall she was frantically trying to erect Suhad did the only thing she could...she lashed out at him. "I don't want to see your side! I don't want to hear your voice! I want you to go! _Get out!_ " She pointed towards the exit when he remained rooted in place. "Now!"

With his shoulders bowed in defeat, Tutankhamun turned away and reluctantly did as Suhad commanded. Only when he was gone did her angry bluster dissipate only to be replaced with embittered anguish as the full enormity of what had happened settled heavily upon her. Her body heaving quiet sobs, Suhad sank down onto her knees and gave into her misery, wondering bleakly how she could hate him so thoroughly and yet love him so fiercely at the same time.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Chapter Eighteen**

Suhad blindly studied the surface of in the murky bath water as she contemplated what her next move should be. It had only been eight days since the news of Tutankhamun and Ankhesenamun's impending parenthood had been announced to the kingdom and already Suhad was feeling as if she could not bear another day of it. After a formal ceremony had been held celebrating the queen's fertility, the kingdom was now in a constant state of rejoicing over the prospect of an heir. Ankhesenamun was treated with the utmost tenderness by all who attended her, namely her brother, for fear her delicate condition might be endangered and she should lose her present pregnancy as she had lost the previous two. Consequently, each subsequent day Suhad spent within the palace walls became a little bit more unbearable.

Thankfully, Tutankhamun respectfully upheld her request to keep his distance. She could still feel his eyes following her longingly across the room and sense his yearning for her on the few occasions they would pass one another in the corridor. But he thankfully never approached her. In her fragile emotional state, Suhad would not have been able to withstand his efforts to cajole her into acceptance. The enforced distance, in turn, allowed Suhad to work resolutely on purging him from her heart. Loving him, she decided, had become a burden that she could no longer bear.

Still, Suhad maintained mixed feelings about the discord that existed between her and Tutankhamun. On the one hand, she was grateful he didn't push the issue. After months and months of enduring the dizzying highs and debilitating lows that were associated with loving him, she should have welcomed the relative peace that came with feeling nothing at all...but she didn't. Even after all that had transpired, she continued to yearn for him and that, ultimately, was the thing that kept her from leaving Thebes altogether. When it was all said and done, she simply could not leave him.

In spite of the frustration, pain and anger that continued to churn in her heart, she missed him ridiculously. There were sides of Tutankhamun that only she knew. She missed his laughter and teasing and cocky self-assuredness. She missed his tendency towards self-deprecation and his candor and his singular way of looking at her as if she were the most precious thing in all the world. She missed the way his altogether too rare smiles would light up his entire face. A small part of her secretly wanted him to try to win back her affection even if he was met with her rejection afterwards. She simply wanted to know and feel that she still mattered to him. Suhad recognized very well that her feelings were not right or just, but they persisted nonetheless.

In the end, however, it was probably best that he kept his distance. She was still too hurt to listen to his justifications. She was also deeply disappointed over how quickly he had gone back on his promises to forge his own traditions and leave the customs of his ancestors in the past. The instant he had learned of Ankhesenamun's pregnancy all his fervent assurances for their future had instantly evaporated. But even as the embittered thought entered her mind, Suhad knew she was being unreasonable.

It wasn't that she couldn't understand the position in which he had been placed. He was Pharaoh of Egypt and, as such, he was bound to obligations that had been established for hundreds of years, long before his very conception had even been attempted. Tutankhamun could not ignore the demands of his own birthright, as much as Suhad wished he could. She had told him once that were he to turn his back on his ancestral traditions that she believed the resulting shame would cripple him. Her feelings on the matter had not changed. Ankhesenamun's pregnancy was a reality he could not ignore.

Of course it was going to matter to him, Suhad reasoned. This was the very thing for which he fully believed he had been born...to produce an heir and continue the male blood line that had begun with his forefathers. She didn't expect that he could simply brush it aside. Unfortunately, understanding his motivations did not lessen the sting of his broken promises for Suhad, not one iota.

After all, there was her own pregnancy to consider. It was growing increasingly difficult to conceal her condition. What had been detectable to the trained eye only when she was nude was beginning to become noticeable while she was clothed. Her abdomen gradually swelled forth as the tiny life within her gained strength and weight and prepared itself for its entry into the world. Before too long, her secret, which she had guarded so protectively for nearly seven months, would no longer be a secret and then she would have to contend with Tutankhamun. He might be willing to subject himself to her wishes now, but once he learned of her pregnancy, Suhad well knew that the rules would change.

"I see that you and I had a similar idea."

Suhad startled at the intrusion of the queen's voice, visibly dismayed to see Ankhesenamun approach the edge of the bath. "Forgive me, my queen," she mumbled, already groping along the edge of the tub for her discarded robe and careful to keep herself hidden beneath the surface of the water as she did so, "If you give me a small moment, I will leave you in solitude."

"No," Ankhesenamun protested quietly, "Stay. You and I have much to discuss."

The words were spoken in a light tone, but Suhad imagined she could detect their ominous edge. She sank back into the water and closed her eyes briefly with an inward groan. "I am sorry for the loss of your cousin, my queen," she murmured sincerely, "You must realize that I never wished any ill on her...or you, for that matter. Her death was cruel and a tragedy."

"And yet, the end result is the same whether you wished us ill or not. Herit is gone and her light is forever extinguished from my life."

"I regret the pain you must feel at this time. I understand that she meant a great deal to you."

"She did mean a great deal to me. We were more like sisters than cousins. She protected me from my girlhood and beyond. But there are times when life must be sacrificed for the greater good. Her death has brought my brother and I closer than ever and, for that reason alone, it was not without purpose."

"And now you are expecting a child together," Suhad uttered thickly.

Ankhesenamun pressed her hand to her abdomen with a small smile. "Yes, we are. The gods have finally shown us favor. Which begs the question...why is it that you remain here, Suhad?"

Suhad tried not to flinch at the frosty query. "I had thought the reason was established long ago. I am here at the Pharaoh's behest."

"And yet, it has become quite evident of late that you no longer hold his interest. Perhaps the time has come for you to return Amurru and your people."

"I will leave when the Pharaoh requests it and not before," Suhad replied with stubborn bite. It mattered little that she had already contemplated returning to Amurru on numerous occasions long before the present conversation with Ankhesenamun. However, she would be cursed if she allowed that woman to think she had left Thebes out of want and not out of desire.

"The Pharaoh has other obligations that merit his attention at this time," Ankhesenamun said, "Namely a looming war, rampant sickness among his people, the delicate management of treasonous enemies _and_ impending fatherhood. Do you really wish to place him in the uncomfortable position of having to reject you and send you away when you could spare yourself the indignity and simply leave of your own accord?"

"Since when have you ever been concerned with my dignity, my queen?"

"Perhaps I was mistaken in assuming you possessed some modicum of pride and self-preservation."

"You were not wrong," Suhad replied, "However, the Pharaoh has never hesitated to speak his mind to me before. Should he desire my departure from Thebes, I am certain _he_ will be the one to make that clear to me rather than using a second party as his mouthpiece."

All vestiges of counterfeit pleasantry evaporated from Ankhesenamun's pretty features then and she regarded Suhad with a narrowed glare. She lowered her eyes to the water, as if she could see beyond the opaque surface to discern Suhad's expanded girth. When she lifted her eyes again, they were speculative and flinty with fortitude.

"You are deceiving yourself if you believe that he will elevate your child above mine, my dear."

Whatever satisfaction Suhad had been feeling prior to that moment fizzled with alacrity. The shock of the revelation that Ankhesenamun had discovered her secret left her momentarily paralyzed with fear and unable to speak. She trembled in the water, too stunned by Ankhesenamun's pointed reference to her unborn child to even _think_ of a response. Ankhesenamun wrongly mistook her silence for guile.

"Do not bother trying to construct a denial," she uttered in a flat tone, "You're not as clever as you think. All of your attendants answer to _me_. You have no secrets here. Though I applaud your success in keeping Tutankhamun in the dark as long as you have, given how frequently he _used_ to visit your bed."

"What do you want from me?" Suhad demanded from between clenched teeth, "I know you don't mean to tell him, so what exactly are you after?"

"Nothing. I mean only to impart some wise counsel to you. I'm sure you'll appreciate it as you've been known in the past to dispense it so freely yourself."

The acidic accusation hidden in her falsely innocuous statement did not escape Suhad's attention. "I did not ask the Pharaoh to send your cousin as an offering for the Mitanni. You unfairly assign blame to me for matters in which I had no control."

"No, I don't believe it is unfair at all. You advised him to make peace with his sworn enemies...with _your people_ at the expense of his own!"

"They are not my people!"

" _We_ are not your people either! Go home! You have no place here, Suhad."

"I have a place with the Pharaoh!"

"You _had_ a place with him! He seems to have little interest in you now."

Suhad refrained from pointing out that his distance had been at _her_ request and not _his_ desire. She refused to be drawn into yet another game of tit for tat with the queen. "He deserves to know that I am to bear his son!"

"Then why have you not told him before now?" It was a valid question and one for which Suhad did not have an answer. She snapped her mouth closed against the rebuttal she had intended. The queen smirked at the small victory.

"Do you honestly think it will make a difference to him?" Ankhesenamun queried derisively, "How long have you been here? How many times has he promised to make you his wife? Yet, he has continually failed to do so. The Pharaoh may have as many wives as he chooses but he has made no move to bestow you with that honor. In fact, even now when he has the opportunity he has not stepped forward to make you his bride. Why do you think that is so? He might make you all the lovely promises in the world but he will _never_ make a common village girl his wife!"

"Are you seeking to convince _me_ of these things?" Suhad asked with false bravado, "Or yourself?"

"Don't be daft, you simple girl!" the queen bit out scornfully, "Your position, as with all women, is fleeting and given solely at the fickle whim of a man's cock. Tutankhamun may have loved you and he may feel some measure of debt towards you, but that does not matter now. I am his Queen and, above all else, his blood. Pure, Egyptian blood and I carry his heir to the throne. There is no greater title in all the world for a woman than to be lauded as a future king's mother! Do you truly want to be here when I receive that glory?"

Suhad inhaled a quick breath. "Is that some sort of threat against me?"

The queen regarded her coolly. "Consider it a caution, if you wish. I am merely informing you that I will tolerate no rivals against my child. Is that clear?"

Despite the chill of pure fear that ran through her, Suhad managed to summon a flash of boldness as she met the queen's cold stare squarely. "You must be quite certain that the gods will deliver you a son who might actually live long enough to take the throne, my queen," she returned shakily, "However, I cannot say that I share your confidence on the matter, thus I shall take my chances and remain here for now."

Ankhesenamun raked her with a withering glance. "You will regret having made an enemy of me!"

Following her confrontation with Ankhesenamun, Suhad began to grow increasingly more paranoid and suspicious of those around her. She guarded herself with everyone, from the most insignificant temple servant to the esteemed Pharaoh himself. She became even more hyperaware of the whispers that took place behind her back, certain that Ankhesenamun had employed spies everywhere in the palace to discern her every move. Daily she contemplated the wisdom of simply fleeing Thebes under the cloak of night but her pride balked at the idea of giving the queen what she wanted. Suhad recognized that Ankhesenamun would not be nearly so eager to get rid of her if she did not perceive Suhad as a threat.

However, Suhad recognized that something beyond her pride was now at stake. She had to think of her unborn child's well being. She already loved her baby deeply already and wanted to protect it. Ankhesenamun had already made it clear that she would target, not only Suhad, but her child as well. The queen was a threat that she could not discount. Suhad had to be sure to protect her child's interest as well as her own...even if that meant leaving the palace without Tutankhamun ever becoming aware of her pregnancy.

She sat in the palace gardens one particular morning, trying to plot out the logistics of such a plan when Lagus approached her and took the empty seat next to her on the stone bench where she was perched. "We haven't spoken in a while, have we?" he said by way of greeting.

"You've been much too preoccupied with his lordship's bidding to engage in idle conversation with old friends," Suhad replied flatly.

"That's no excuse. I should make a greater effort with you, especially given how difficult your time here has been."

"I can take care of myself, Lagus."

"I don't doubt it," he replied with a measure of fondness and pride, "But everyone needs allies, Suhad. I've been worried about you."

"Were _you_ worried or are you merely here at _his_ request?"

"I sought you out of my own volition, if you must know," Lagus said, "Not that he hasn't been probing me endlessly for details on your emotional state of late. I wish you would talk to him. He's been in agony, Suhad."

"Do not speak to me of his pain! That's hardly fair."

"I never made any promises to be such. I'm here to intercede on _both_ your behalves."

Suhad set her jaw obstinately. "I have nothing to say to him, Lagus."

"Then allow _him_ to do the talking. He only seeks to determine if you are well and to know that you do not despise him."

"So this is to be a reconnaissance mission, is it?"

Lagus reached over to squeeze her hand, disarming her with a single, tender gesture. "This is my acting as a mediator between two stubborn fools while also showing interest in a friend. So, as it is clear that I am failing in the former, I shall instead concentrate on the latter. How are you, Suhad? Tell me truly."

"Do you remember when we were in the desert and you warned Khaten that I would not be accepted here?" she recalled in a tremulous voice, "You told him that the transition would be difficult for us but, particularly, for _me_. Neither of us was willing to heed your counsel. We were quite naive, weren't we...to think I could come here and we could have a life together?"

"Not naive. Hopeful and fully confident that your love could conquer all obstacles. Who is to say you were wrong? You can still have a life together...only perhaps not the idealized one that you first imagined." Suhad processed his words with a painful swallow, maintaining her silence in invitation for him to continue. "You are enamored with the Pharaoh of Egypt, Suhad," Lagus went on gently, "He is a man with great power and great enemies and even greater responsibility. Did you really believe that you would have him all to yourself?"

"Perhaps I did not realize I would be required to share him with so many," she mumbled.

"If it is any consolation to you, _you_ are the only one to whom he wishes to be obligated." When she said nothing in response to that, Lagus tried a different tactic altogether, deciding to address the matter that had prompted him to seek her out in the first place. "When will you tell him of the child you carry?" She snapped upright at the unforeseen question, her fists bunching reflexively in her lap as tension knifed through her entire body.

"There are whispers, Suhad," Lagus continued gently, "They haven't yet reached the Pharaoh's ears as he has been distracted with other affairs but it is only a matter of time." Suhad made a lame attempt at denial but Lagus held up his hand for her silence. "You don't have to confirm anything to me if you are disinclined but you should realize that the Pharaoh already suspects your condition."

Suhad's features became ashen with incredulity and fear. "What? How?"

"Calm yourself. Yes, he does suspect or...at least, he _did_ suspect at one point," he clarified, "He mentioned the possibility to me weeks ago."

"What did he say?" she burst out, "What did you tell him?"

"Nothing too detailed, only that he thought you might be with child and he asked me what I thought of the timing. I told him that he shouldn't worry about matters which _you_ hadn't brought to his attention. At the time, I hadn't imagined that you would deliberately keep such news from him."

"I have my reasons, Lagus."

"There is no judgment on my part, Suhad, only concern."

"I cannot only think of what is best for Tutankhamun and I at this point. Whatever decision I make will affect my child for better or worse. _He_ must be my priority."

"And the Pharaoh's priority," Lagus added pointedly.

"Perhaps..."

"Do not mislead yourself. This is not a secret you can maintain indefinitely. He will know soon enough," he said, directing a meaningful look towards her rounded abdomen which she kept carefully concealed behind a heavy cloak. "Do you not think that he should hear the truth from you?"

She caressed her belly, oddly comforting by the rolling acrobatics of the child within her. "I sincerely doubt he will care, Lagus. He has his heir now."

Lagus favored her with a chastising glance. "You know better. Don't allow your insecurities over the queen to cloud your judgment. He will welcome a child with you, Suhad. Surely you know that, heir or not, this child will be his favorite because _you_ are its mother."

"And that will only cause my child to become a target," she reasoned, "He won't be safe here."

"So you mean to return to Amurru?" Lagus concluded astutely.

Suhad ducked shamefully her head though his tone was largely without judgment. "I've been considering it. My baby would be safer."

"You must speak to Tutankhamun before you decide anything. But you should know, Suhad...he would _never_ allow anything to happen to you or the child. He would give his life on your behalf."

She averted her face in hopes of concealing the tears that had begun to spill from her eyes. "Are you going to tell him?" she sniffled tentatively.

"That is not my place," Lagus told her, " _You_ should tell him."

"I cannot," she choked.

"Why not? Do you imagine he would be anything less than ecstatic? He would rejoice over the news, Suhad! I'm certain of it."

"It's not that! I cannot tell him because if I do then I will be bound to him forever."

Lagus blinked at her in incredulous confusion. "I thought that was what you wanted. Is that not the very reason you came to Thebes in the first place?"

She licked at the teardrops gathering at the corners of her mouth. "Yes. I did want to be with him. I _do_. But I never imagined loving him would be _this_ much pain. Sometimes I can scarcely breathe under the weight of it all. When we were in the desert it was easier. We were free to do what we wanted when we wanted. I wish we could go back."

"But you cannot go back and this is your reality now. You can either take him as he is and find a way to accept that which you cannot change or you can leave him, Suhad. But you must make a choice and you must stick with it...for his sake and for your own."

Suhad acknowledged his words with a terse nod. "I will consider all that you have said, my friend. Thank you for your candor...and your concern."

"That is what we do, after all, you and I and Tutankhamun," Lagus replied with a reassuring smile, "We take care of each other."

"Yes," she agreed, leaning her head lightly upon his shoulder, "That is what we do."


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**Chapter Nineteen**

Fourteen days after the triumphant announcement of her impending motherhood, the queen miscarried her third child in the middle of the night while she lay in her bed sleeping. She awakened to find her linens soaked through with blood and the child, whom she had wanted and needed so fiercely, irretrievably lost to her. While Suhad faced the prospect of informing Tutankhamun of her secret pregnancy, Ankhesenamun faced the prospect of disclosing to him her failed one. Consequently, the Pharaoh spent all of that morning sequestered in his sister's chambers, attempting to comfort the distraught queen during her inconsolable loss and all of that afternoon on his knees in prayer at temple, asking the gods again and again "why?"

During all of those hours, Suhad waited with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. While the palace descended into mourning over the queen's loss, she had quietly slipped into Tutankhamun's chambers and situated herself upon his chaise to await his inevitable arrival. Her resolve to continue waiting was shaken slightly when she learned that he had spent the entire morning alone with the queen. She was further dismayed when next she heard that he had gone to the temple in order to supplicate the gods on Ankhesenamun's behalf.

Clearly, he was preoccupied with his sister's well being which caused Suhad question her timing more than once. It seemed that whenever she resolved herself to telling him the truth something always interrupted her execution. If she were particularly superstitious Suhad might have believed that it was some kind of divine expectation from the gods for her to maintain her silence. However, she knew better than to use that as an excuse. Given the circumstances, she would have gladly latched on to any excuse to forgo her plans because she feared how Tutankhamun might react, especially given his current anguish over Ankhesenamun's miscarriage. Despite her misgivings, however, Suhad was determined not to let her mind go wandering too deeply into his possible motivations or what he might be feeling at that time.

He had lost a child and it was only natural that he should grieve for it. That reality was completely separate from her obligation to tell him of her own pregnancy. The time had long passed for him to know. But something far more powerful than responsibility and obligation compelled Suhad to continue waiting for him, something that far outweighed her fear. _Compassion_. Suhad had never been able to turn her back on Tutankhamun, especially not when he was in pain. That was how they had begun after all...because her own tender heart would not allow her to leave him in the riverbed even when her instincts had warned her that he would prove to be trouble.

She'd been right in that regard too. Pharaoh Nesubity Nebkhepepure Tutankhamun Hekaiunushema had been her greatest source of joy and misery for nearly the better part of a year. Yet, Suhad found that when she contemplated those exhilarating weeks of pure happiness and the equally hopeless moments of contention and despair, she truly did _not_ regret loving him. How could she? Their love had created the child within her. Their love had encouraged him to grow into the incredible ruler and man that he had become. Their love had changed her entire world.

Lagus had been astute in his observations, however. For too long she had been so preoccupied with lamenting what she and Tutankhamun had lost once they'd left the desert behind that she never stopped to contemplate what they had gained or what yet remained between them. Almost since the moment of their arrival in Thebes, she had been unconsciously punishing Tutankhamun for a life he could not change. She had often said that she could accept his role as Pharaoh of Egypt but there was quite a difference between words and actions. While she could _acknowledge_ that he was Pharaoh she wasn't quite prepared to deal with the complications that came with the title. Still, the earnest desire to accept him completely remained with her because the alternative of living her life without him was simply unbearable.

It was close to evening when Tutankhamun abruptly came stalking back into his bedchamber with the most fearsome expression on his face that Suhad had ever witnessed. The sudden intrusion made her jump. She assimilated within seconds that he was infuriated about something which, momentarily, had her rethinking her plans to speak with him right then. He was already in a foul temper and she certainly didn't want to worsen it.

She darted a look around her, unconsciously searching for a place to conceal herself before he caught sight of her. The decision was inevitably taken out of her hands. He started to tear through his chamber in obvious search of something, completely unaware of Suhad inching towards the nearest corner. Mere seconds before she reached the pillar on which she had set her sights, Tutankhamun whipped around and the two came face to face. Suhad froze in her tracks, as did he. They stared at one another mutely. Suhad watched with suspended breath as his dark expression quickly gave way to incredulous astonishment and finally sagging relief.

"Hello," he greeted with uncharacteristic formality.

"Hello," Suhad returned rather tentatively, "Did...have you misplaced something?"

" _You_...actually. I was in your chambers a short while ago," he explained to her in a measured tone. Suhad realized that they were the first words he'd spoken to her beyond formal pleasantries in nearly two weeks and, ridiculously, it was enough to double her already racing heartbeat. "You weren't there. I thought, at first, that you might have fled in the night. I was going to have this palace and the city torn apart searching for you."

"There's no need for such drastic measures," Suhad whispered, "As you can see, I am here. I heard about the queen. I am sorry for the loss you have suffered, Khaten. I know how much it meant to you to have an heir."

With her words, Tutankhamun's eyes deliberately slid lower, lingering intently on her distended middle, which was partially shrouded by her outer robe, before returning to her face once again. His features were inscrutable but even at a distance Suhad could detect the angry fire leaping in the depths of his expressive eyes. In that horrifying split second, she recognized that there was no need to give him any truth. He already knew. Her suspicion was confirmed with his next words.

"But I do still have an heir... " he asked in a deceptively soft voice, "...isn't that true, Suhad?"

He didn't need to raise his voice for her to recognize that he was infuriated with her. Somehow, the quiet, even tone he used made his anger all the more palpable to her. His lean frame practically vibrated with the emotion and was detectable even across the expanse that separated them. Suhad trembled, not with fear that he would cause her any bodily harm but with regret for the hurt and confusion that he must be feeling at that moment, hurt and confusion that _she_ had caused him.

"I...I was going to tell you," she stammered out in consolation, "I...I wanted to...I wanted to find the words every day."

"And when were you going to do that exactly? When it became impossible for you to conceal your pregnancy any longer? Or were you planning to send word by messenger? Perhaps long after you had returned to Amurru and had borne the child?"

He fairly spat out each question and his words had a lacerating effect on her already beleaguered conscience. Suhad shrank inside herself with burgeoning shame because she could not completely deny that the thoughts hadn't crossed her mind. "How did you come to know?"

"Ay told me while I was at temple, resigning myself to the possible reality that my bloodline would likely die with me. He was good enough to disavow me of that grim prospect. Apparently, your condition has become common knowledge among everyone here...except _me_." When he could feel his anger mounting anew, Tutankhamun closed his eyes in a bid for composure. He inhaled a deep, steadying breath before he looked at her again and implored in the calmest tone he could summon, "Just...why, Suhad? Tell me _why_."

"I thought to tell you so many times over the past months," Suhad confessed hoarsely, "But the longer I waited, the more difficult it became. I agonized endlessly over how this child might be received and how news of my condition would affect your rule. I never intended to keep it hidden from you for so long!"

"But you _did_ intend to keep it hidden?" As she verbally flailed about for some sort of response to that, it became apparent that she would be unable to produce a satisfactory answer so Tutankhamun followed up his initial question to her with yet another. "Did you not think I would care to know?"

"Your attention has been consistently elsewhere of late. I did not wish to add to your burden."

"You thought I would see our child as a burden?"

"A child born with the same blood of your sworn enemy coursing through its veins?" Suhad considered thickly, "Yes. I thought the news might be less than thrilling for you."

He prowled the in restless circles before her, shooting her a look that was half insulted, half incensed. "I have never viewed _you_ in that manner. Why would you ever believe I would view our child as any less?"

Suhad bit her lip in tearful consternation. "I'm not saying my fears were legitimate only that they were my fears and they were very real to me. I have been certain of precious little since I came here except for two things and that is...I love you, Khaten, and I want to protect you. That was true in the desert and it is true now."

Tutankhamun froze, relief and hope replaced his shattered expression. "You love me? Still?"

"Did you think I ever stopped?" she wondered in surprise.

In the wake of her tacit confession, Tutankhamun relaxed considerably, as if he had merely been waiting for that reassurance all along. He released a shuddering breath. "I couldn't be sure what you were feeling any longer," he said softly, "You made it quite clear that my presence was unwanted."

"I was hurt."

"I know...and I am sorry for the part I played in dealing it."

She accepted his apology with a small nod before offering one of her own. "I am as well...for the hurt _I_ caused you."

Tutankhamun expelled another ragged breath before asking, "How long before the child is born?"

"It's not exact, but...I anticipate the babe will be born in three months time," she said, "Perhaps less."

Surprisingly enough, in spite of the tension that continued to swell between them, he smiled at the news. It was trembling at first, wobbling on his lips as if he was fighting against it and then his beautiful features softened completely, his dark eyes gleaming with tears of boundless joy as his grin stretched from ear to ear. "I honestly don't know whether I should be angry with you at this moment or happier than I've ever been in my entire life."

"Should I have any say in the matter, my lord, I think I would prefer the latter," Suhad interjected shakily. When Tutankhamun emitted a small grunt of laughter, she opened her arms to him in silent appeal. "Do you think, perhaps, you and I could have a reconciliation now?"

She didn't take another breath until she felt his arms close around her in a firm embrace. In that instant it felt as if her world, which had been tilted crazily off of its axis in recent weeks, suddenly was righted. But Suhad barely had time to get lost in the sensation of being surrounded by his scent and warmth again before he was eagerly pushing her robe from her shoulders. As the material pooled at her feet, Tutankhamun took a step back to survey her, his eyes and hands roaming her body and assimilating the changes with reverential wonder.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed.

Suhad suppressed the self-conscious urge to shield herself. "I'm enormous and ungainly."

He lightly skimmed his hands over her arms and breasts and belly as if he expected her to dematerialize right before his eyes. "No. You're perfect...absolutely perfect."

And then, without warning, he sank to his knees before her and framed her hips in his hands to bring her closer, pressing his face to her stomach. Suhad didn't imagine she could be anymore overwhelmed with emotion than she was right then until he placed a fervent kiss to the mound of her belly. Her tears welled anew as he nuzzled his face there and began whispering words of endearment to his unborn child, ultimately laughing with tearful delight when the child responded with several thumping kicks.

Tutankhamun tipped a smiling glance up at Suhad. "Does he do this often?"

"Mostly when I'm trying to sleep," she managed around the lump of emotion forming in her throat, "He must recognize his father's voice."

He pressed his face into her abdomen once more, raining grateful kisses across the distended expanse. "You have inspired me," he told her hoarsely, "You have given me hope again."

Suhad cupped his cheek, gently drawing his eyes back to her own. "Then I will stand by your side no matter what befalls us," she promised, "I will never love another."

"We are both guilty of making promises to each other that we have broken again and again. That cannot continue, Suhad."

"I will not break _this_ promise. I will run from you no more. You are my home and my life. I will not leave you. This is the vow I make to you and it is as lasting and binding as any marriage vow."

"And if the gods...if they turn against me...if I fall from the throne and into disgrace...if the pyramids themselves crumble under my watch, what then, Suhad?"

"Then I will help you rebuild them," she vowed, "Stone by stone."

"I make you a promise as well, and it is as lasting and as binding as any marriage vow. I will always love and protect you as I will our child. And he..."

"...or she," Suhad interjected with a wobbly smile.

"...will never want for anything. I will see to it."

"You cannot force your people to love this child anymore than you can force them to love me. It is enough that we will raise our son or daughter together. It is just as you've always said...no one else matters."

"My people already love you, Suhad," he told her and before she could scoff at that he rose to his feet and cradled her face in his hands. "Think about what you have done, my love. You are a hero among the common people. You have proven to them that their Pharaoh is _not_ inaccessible to them...that not only is he willing to walk and fight alongside them but he is willing to _really_ love them as well. Only here in the palace do they view you as a threat. Out among the people, however, you are nothing less than a goddess in their eyes."

"I...I didn't know," Suhad gasped in astonishment.

"Did you never notice the reverence with which you were treated when you ventured out into the market place?" Tutankhamun wondered, "The special treatment you were often shown?"

Still dazed by his revelation, she replied vaguely, "I always imagined it was out of deference for you..."

"Perhaps in part. But Lagus often told me that he continually had to keep the crowds at bay due to their repeated attempts to draw close to you. He even requested that I restrict your visits to market for fear the crowds would grow to unruly."

Suhad gaped at him as the full import of what he was revealing to her hit her all at once. She shrugged out of his loosened hold with a short bark of stunned laughter. "You've been having Lagus follow me to the marketplace all this time?"

"Of course," Tutankhamun confirmed without remorse, "Did you really expect that I would allow you to venture outside the palace walls unescorted and unprotected?"

"B-But you never said a word at all!" she sputtered.

"Had you known of it, you would have protested and I would have insisted and it would have ended in yet another disagreement with the end result being the same. I thought to avoid conflict between us."

"You are truly too much, my king. I cannot decide if I should be angry at your unapologetic presumptuousness or flattered by your obvious thoughtfulness and concern."

With a slow smile, Tutankhamun plucked hold of her hand and drew her back into his arms. "Should I have any say in the matter, my love," he whispered, deliberately turning her earlier words to him back on her, "I should prefer the latter." When she chuckled in spite of her aggravation he nuzzled a sweet kiss across her smiling mouth. "I have missed you so much, Suhad."

"I have missed you as well," she managed in a serrated whisper when his lips began meandering trek over the curve of her jaw and down her neck. She started to whisper his name but the sound was lost when he kissed her again, his mouth angling passionately across her own.

He strummed his fingers across the delicate skin of her shoulders before hooking them into the gathered linen of her sleeveless nightgown. He peeled the delicate material down her body, baring her nakedness in painstaking inches to his ardent gaze. Once the linen was pooled at her feet, he mapped out her body with his eyes and lips and hands, as if touching and kissing her for the very first time. In a sense, it _did_ feel like the first time to Tutankhamun because he was coming to know a side to Suhad that he had only hypothesized about before. He was no longer merely making love to the woman he loved more than life, he was making love to the mother of his child. They had created a life together and were bonded together by blood now. For Tutankhamun, the realization was profound.

After he had shed his own clothing, Tutankhamun had a single flash of hesitation as he moved to join Suhad among the piles of linen that adorned his bed. She lay before him, glorious and exposed and swollen with their child that he could plainly witness thumping around within her and, in that moment, he had never felt more humbled. Tutankhamun touched her abdomen in a fleeting caress before his hand descended lower to brush the coarse curls that lay beyond even as his gaze became shuttered with uncertainty. He drew his fingers across her sensitive flesh in slow, tentative strokes.

"This is safe for you..." he wondered quietly, "...and the child, is it not? If I must wait, I will. I would not do anything hurt either of you."

Suhad cupped his cheek and drew him down for her kiss, reassuring him with her touch and responsiveness. "I love you so much," she whispered as she deftly maneuvered them both into a position more accommodating of her expanding girth, "and I want this with you. There is no need to restrain yourself with me." Suhad fought against letting her eyes close when he joined their bodies together, determined to watch each small grimace of pleasure that flittered across his face and commit it to memory. She smiled down at him lovingly as they found their rhythm together, their hips rolling and gliding together like the ebb and flow of a mighty river current. Suhad finally lost her battle to keep her eyes open when he brought her to the precipice and then followed her over.

Later they spooned together in the center of his bed, content to lie in companionable silence and trade lazy kisses and caresses in the fading torchlight. Tutankhamun strummed his fingers of the slope of Suhad's belly, anticipating the instant when he would feel a firm thump beneath his palm. When none came, he frowned and lifted his head, his heart instantly beginning to strum with alarm.

"Why is he not moving?" he asked Suhad fretfully, "Should I call for the physician?"

She chuckled, both amused and endeared by his overanxious fatherly concern. "All is well. He is allowed to sleep sometime, is he not, my lord?"

"Are you sure that's all it is? "What if-?"

"-Our child is healthy, Tutankhamun," she said, hoping to soothe the fear lurking behind his eyes, "You needn't worry. This is his routine. I've noticed that when I'm active, he is usually quiet but the moment _I'm_ still and quiet, then he's a bundle of energy. Give him a moment. He'll be bumping around like a maddened thing soon enough."

Tutankhamun regarded her with a fascinated smile. "Really? So he's vexing you already?"

"Most especially in the mornings or when I am bathing or any moments of relaxation at all. Your son is quite the acrobat. Whenever I find myself dozing, he's only too eager to be my wake up call. He's very much like his father," she added with an impertinent smile, "He likes to be the center of attention."

"I remember some weeks ago lying in bed with you as I am now and I thought I felt something..." he recounted with an awed smile, "It was so light and fleeting, I convinced myself later that I had imagined it. But I hadn't at all. It was real. _He_ is real."

"Why did you never tell me you suspected?"

"I felt a bit foolish at the time. I know very little about childbearing. I had never taken an interest in it before. I didn't feel it was my place to say anything. I trusted that, if it were so, you would confirm it."

Her eyes rolled away in guilty consternation. "You must now feel your trust in me was misplaced."

Tutankhamun pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth in a tacit gesture of understanding and forgiveness. "No. I don't feel that. My trust in you has not been shaken at all. I merely regret any fear and doubt you must have felt...whatever it was that must have compelled you to keep our child a secret for so long."

"I did not want anyone questioning your allegiance to Egypt due to your love for me. I thought I was complicating your rule and making you vulnerable to your enemies. The queen said..."

"What?" he demanded sharply, "What did she say to you? Is she the reason you stayed silent so long? Does she know you are with child?"

"That's not important. At the time, she was speaking hypothetically. She said that your people did not trust you because of your attachment to me and that any child born of our union would be a shame and disgrace to your dynasty," Suhad confessed in a muffled tone.

Tutankhamun's eyes narrowed with displeasure. "She had no right to say those things."

"But she spoke no untruth, Khaten."

"No, she deliberately misrepresented it instead and caused you to believe that you were hurting me by your continued presence and _that_ was wrong," he countered, "I will speak to Ankhesenamun in the morning. She must know that I will not tolerate your being mistreated by her."

"Please do not do that," Suhad implored, "She despises me enough already and she is grieving the loss of her child. None of it matters now. Let it be."

"It matters. However, I will do as you ask... _for now_ ," he consented, "But Ankhesenamun must come to terms with your place in my life. I will not have her undermining you or making you feel unwelcome any longer."

"She would be unable to do so if I didn't allow my own insecurities to eclipse my good judgment. I've made so many mistakes with you."

"Do not judge yourself too harshly. We have both made mistakes. I know that my own actions have contributed to your insecurities," he acknowledged, "But I would change none of what's occurred to bring us to this moment...most assuredly I would not change having you here with me now or our child growing inside of you. I think..." he marveled with a quivering smile, "...this is how it must feel to be truly happy."

"You can say that even with all the turmoil you are yet to face?"

"Absolutely. This moment here with you is everything that I never knew that I wanted." He settled back down against her and drew her back into his arms. "I haven't forgotten what dire prospects continue to loom ahead of me. The Mitanni remain a growing threat. Illness has become rampant in my kingdom, making it near impossible for me to answer that threat. My enemies are very likely seeking their first opportunity to seize power now that Ankhesenamun has miscarried our child. But all is not lost to me, Suhad. You and I are the only constant I have in my life."

"And I've rejected you at every turn," Suhad considered mournfully.

"I understand your reasons."

She shifted around in his arms so that they were lying face to face. "Do you really? Do you forgive me?"

"There is nothing to forgive. When it is all said and done, you stayed, my love. You could have run from here a hundred times and would have been completely justified to do so and yet you did not. You stayed with me in spite of all difficulty and your own broken heart. That is no small thing." He brushed her forehead with a tender kiss. "So we shall go forward from this moment _together_ ," he declared softly, "There shall be no more silence, no more broken promises and no further doubt between us. Agreed?"

Suhad strummed her fingers across his lower lip, her mouth turned up in a blissful smile. "Agreed."


	21. Chapter Twenty

**Chapter Twenty**

Tutankhamun awakened to the cold, uncomfortable sense that he was being watched. The feeling was completely incongruent with the comforting warmth that pervaded him at being pressed against Suhad's naked flesh and surrounded by her scent. That a chill of foreboding should strike him when he was at his most content was baffling and it was that striking contrast that compelled him to open his eyes.

Frowning deeply, he blinked in the weak, morning light, confused and stunned to find an ashen and disheveled Ankhesenamun standing next to his bed and glaring down at him silently with an expression that could only be described as malevolent hatred. He recoiled from her, his first instinct to ensure that a sleeping Suhad was decently covered and undisturbed before he addressed his errant sister. After he had secured the blankets more securely about his hips in a bid for modesty, Tutankhamun croaked her name in an incredulous whisper.

"What...What are you doing here?" he rasped, "You should be resting."

Ankhesenamun flicked a brief look towards Suhad before glowering at him with a betrayed expression. "How could you do this to me?" she hissed before turning on her heel and fleeing from the chamber.

Left with little choice in the matter, Tutankhamun quickly shook off the last remaining vestiges of sleep and deftly slid from the bed, careful not to awaken Suhad as he did. He shrugged into the robe he had discarded the night before and took off after Ankhesenamun. He managed to catch up with her purposeful strides only seconds before she could disappear into the inner sanctum of her chambers.

When she would not yield to his repeated commands to stop, Tutankhamun stretched out his hand to grab hold of her arm in hopes of waylaying her retreat. The instant he did, Ankhesenamun ripped away from his grasp and whirled around suddenly to smack him hard across the face. The resulting crack echoed deafeningly through the empty corridors. He was still reeling from the unanticipated blow when she rounded on him with a feral snarl.

"Don't you dare touch me!" she sneered, "You've unimaginable nerve after the tender scene I just witnessed! I'm entirely heartened to know that the loss of our child has not prevented you from slaking your lust with your Mitanni whore, brother!"

While her uninvited intrusion into his bedchamber, physical assault and scathing sarcasm had not provoked his ire, the reproachful words directed at Suhad instantly infuriated him. "You are distraught and grieving the loss of our child," he declared in a tone taut with anger, "so I will make an allowance for your thoughtless words _this time_! But, if you _ever_ speak of her that way again, I cannot be held responsible for what is done to you following!"

"Are you threatening me?" she gasped incredulously.

"I am merely stating facts. Suhad does not deserve your disrespect and I will not tolerate it."

"I am you _wife_!"

" _She_ is the one I have chosen!" She winced at the force of his words and Tutankhamun found himself softening his tone in response to her anguished dismay. "I do not wish to be harsh with you, but... This cannot continue. You _must_ find a way to accept her, Ankhesenamun. She is here. She is a part of me. That will not change."

"Of course, _I_ am the one expected to make allowances for _her_...a common village girl from Amurru," his sister sniffled bitterly, "Is there nothing that baffles you about that ludicrous decree? Why is it that this _peasant_ must be protected and revered at all costs?"

" _That_ , dear sister, is where you continually fall short," Tutankhamun chastised coldly, "Because you simply cannot allow yourself to see past Suhad's social class in order to appreciate her innate worth and abundant goodness. And that is _your_ limitation, not hers."

"And is that what you appreciate about her, brother?" Ankhesenamun goaded, "Is it her _worth_ and _goodness_ that holds you so enthralled?"

"Do not belittle what I feel for her. We both know that Suhad is no mere harem girl."

"How can I forget it when you continue to hand her all that should be rightfully mine without compunction?"

"That is not what I have done! I am simply requesting that you make peace with her. You have made her feel unwelcome since the day she came!"

"You should have never brought her here! She has ruined _everything_!"

"How so? Where is the ruination? She has given me hope and happiness, something I have not felt in years! Why is that so offensive to you?"

"It was just as Ka did for me, but that did not stop you from stripping him from my life!"

"It is not the same! Ka left me for dead, Ankhesenamun! He betrayed us both! He claimed to be my friend and then he conspired against me to take what was rightfully mine!"

"And what do you imagine _she_ is doing to _me_?"

He resisted the urge to drag both hands down his face in groaning frustration. "Does it not mean anything to you that she is the reason I breathe today?" Tutankhamun uttered shortly, "You say that you never wished me dead, that you grieved for me endlessly when you believed me so and yet you resent the very person who brought me back to you!"

"She didn't bring you back. She _stole_ you from me...like she has stolen everything of mine from the moment she came."

"That is not true," he reiterated for a second time, "I am still here, sister. I have not abandoned you or betrayed you. I will never do so."

Ankhesenamun waved her hand in dismissal of that heartfelt avowal, turning her back to him as she fought back the fresh tears that welled in her eyes. "Do not pretend that she is here merely to fulfill some debt of gratitude. You _are_ going to give her everything that is mine...and we both know it." She angled a disheartened glance at him over her shoulder. "So let us put away the pretense, shall we, brother?"

Rather than deny the statement, Tutankhamun slumped forward and asked with a heavy sigh of resignation, "What would you have me do, Ankhesenamun? She is...she is my heart. I did not go off in search of her. The gods set us on this path."

"Do not speak to me about her presence being the will of the gods!" Ankhesenamun spat, "I do not believe it!"

"I do," he replied softly, "I have almost since the moment I met her. There was no reason for Suhad and I to _ever_ find each other again and yet we did. I cannot believe that was coincidence!" Ankhesenamun scoffed at the reasoning while Tutankhamun prepared to grant her with the candor she had requested. He paused in a brief flash of dread, knowing that his next words to her would only inflict further hurt. "You should be aware that Suhad and I...she is with my child, Ankhesenamun. We are going to have a son."

The news wasn't a revelation to Ankhesenamun at all and yet hearing Tutankhamun say the words aloud was like a burning hot blade slicing through her gut. Perhaps it was due to her own loss which was still so fresh in her heart and mind or because her greatest enemy should be blessed with the one thing she could never attain but, at that moment, Ankhesenamun had never felt more alone in her life...or more desperate. She actually doubled over and emitted a low keening sound as if in physical pain. Tutankhamun flinched, wanting to comfort her yet recognizing she would reject any overture towards tenderness coming from him.

"I wanted you to hear the news from me first," he whispered.

"Forgive me if I fail to offer you my congratulations at this time, brother," she replied dully.

"I cannot imagine the pain you are feeling to receive this news so soon after your own loss, but I thought it best that I tell you truth rather than you hearing the news secondhand."

"Does it really matter?" she wept brokenly, "The pain is the same..."

"I know your outlook seems bleak at the moment, however... Perhaps...perhaps, we should try and see the advantage in this situation. Perhaps, all that has happened is merely the will of the go-,"

She whipped to face him with an angry snarl, her tearful anguish dissipated within seconds and replaced with righteous fury. "Do not _dare_ speak to me about the will of the gods again! Should I be comforted to know it was their _will_ that _my_ child die while Suhad's lives and thrives? Curse the gods and curse you, Tutankhamun! Is it truly their will that _you_ continue to gain while _I_ continue to bleed? What have _you_ lost? What sacrifices have _you_ made?" She doubled over again, her slim frame wracked with violent sobs. "Why am I continually being punished for my missteps? Have I not begged for their forgiveness over and over? When will this hemorrhaging stop?"

"I do not know, my sister. Were it in my power to ease your pain, I would do it."

Ankhesenamun choked out an embittered laugh. "No, you would not. Because the one thing for which I have continually asked, you have adamantly refused." She whisked away the tears staining her cheeks, her demeanor becoming defeated and haunted once more. "But perhaps this is no less than what I deserve. Perhaps you were right in your accusations then, brother," she uttered thickly, "I _did_ betray you. I have lied to you and I have been disloyal to you and derelict in my duty as both your sister and your queen. And I must pay for that...and pay...and pay...and pay... I don't know that I will ever be happy again."

Tutankhamun was not left unmoved by her tears and abject sadness and he could no longer push down the instinctive need to comfort her. He reached out to stroke her heaving back, feeling her pain right then as if it were his own. Tutankhamun could well empathize with her plight because, at one time, he'd held similar feelings once himself. But Suhad had changed all of that and he had faith that Ankhesenamun's feelings could be changed as well. He told her as much.

"You _will_ be happy again, sister. In fact, this may well be our opportunity to start anew."

She lifted vacant brown eyes in a wary stare. "Start anew?" she echoed in a hollow tone, "What do you mean?"

"You and I have never been given the chance to be proper siblings," he reasoned, "We've always been constrained by the traditions of our ancestors. But what if they were wrong? What if we were meant for something else, something far _greater_? We can choose for ourselves, Ankhesenpaaten."

His deliberate use of her childhood name, a name that had been meant to pay tribute to the god Aten, was not lost on her. It was a clear sign that he was ready to break away from the customs, both traditional and religious, that had long constrained them. He was ready and willing to tread a new path altogether, clearly prepared to forge his own. The very thought frightened Ankhesenamun and left her shaken.

"Be careful that you do not blaspheme, brother. Do not follow in our father's footsteps."

"How can it be blasphemy when the gods themselves have set these events in motion? We must look at the facts, sister. You and I have been unable to produce a living heir in all these years, despite ardent prayers and constant effort. The gods have ignored our requests again and again and yet they allowed Suhad to find me and heal me, my body and my spirit. She changed me profoundly. And now she will become mother to my son. If that is not the will of the gods then I do not know what is."

Ankhesenamun raised her chin to a haughty angle even as tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks. "How fortunate for you that you have found favor in their eyes even as you boldly question all they have had laid in place for hundreds of years before your birth," she managed brokenly, "While, despite my continued faith, it seems that _I_ have incited only their scorn and endless displeasure."

He lost his internal battle against keeping a tentative distance and pulled her into his arms, cradling her to him and stroking her stiffened back. Though it took several moments, she finally relaxed enough to accept his gesture of comfort. She bunched her fingers into his robe and sobbed raggedly into his chest, craving the emotional stability he provided for her even while she despised herself for needing him at all.

"It does not please me to see you in agony, sister," he murmured against her temple, "I do not wish to cause you more pain."

"Can you not see that it is your desire to replace me that causes me pain?"

Tutankhamun framed her face in his hands, drawing her eyes to his. "I am _not_ replacing you, Ankhesenamun. I could never do that. I _love_ you. You are my sister. _Your_ blood runs through _my_ veins. You once knew me better than all others. You know in your heart that I would never leave you unprotected. This is our opportunity to build something new...something better than what we had before."

She shrugged out of his hold, refusing to be cajoled by his words. "You would really forsake the will of our ancestors for this one girl?"

"I would do anything for her," he whispered, "Surely you can relate to that. But this is not only for her. This is truly for _your_ benefit as well, even if, for the moment, you cannot see it."

"I don't begrudge your happiness but I cannot agree with the choices you are making, brother. I fear you are walking the same path our father tread and, in doing so, you are securing your own doom. Please, reconsider your actions."

"Our father's failure was that he eventually began to seek his own glory and not that of his people. He alienated and subjugated them with his religion, rather than freeing them and bringing them closer to the gods. That is _not_ my aim. I want to increase Egypt's glory. I want to protect her. And I want to make the gods accessible to all. If you cannot agree with my decisions can you not, at least, trust my judgment? I act in _both_ of our interests, not just my own."

"I am trying to believe that."

"It will be a transition for you, I realize, but I truly believe in the end you will be happier. You will gain freedom like you have never known. And you will love again, Ankhesenamun, and be free to choose when you do."

"Does she put these fanciful notions in your head?"

His lips quirked in a bittersweet smile. "She's helped me to imagine the possibilities. You could come to like her, if you let yourself. She might even become like a sister to you." He leaned forward and pressed a sound kiss to the furrow between her brow. "Think about what I've said, at least."

She watched him walk away with glittering eyes, torn between leaping anger and anguished defeat at his parting words. She was not at all surprised when Vizier Ay emerged from the shadows just beyond the pillars behind her just as Tutankhamun disappeared down the corridor. "How long have you been lurking there, Ay?" she asked without any real interest.

"Long enough to discern that you are on the verge of losing everything, my queen," Ay replied bluntly.

"And what is to be done about it? He loves her. You heard him. He believes the gods themselves have approved their union. How can I oppose divinity?"

"What the Pharaoh believes and what is reality are two separate things. The battle is not finished. He hasn't made her his queen...not yet. That title still belongs to you for the moment."

"Which means what exactly?"

"That you must act quickly and prudently," Ay prompted in a fierce under-breath, "You cannot mean to give in without a fight, can you?"

"I am tired of fighting, Ay. Ka is gone. Herit is gone. My son is gone. My brother has made his choice and she is soon to bear his child. What is left?"

"Your grandfather's legacy. Will you let that be chiseled from history so easily?"

"What would you have me do, Ay?" Ankhesenamun demanded through clenched teeth, "He has set his mind and there is no changing it!"

"Then it would be to your advantage to acquaint yourself with your enemy's weakness. Do so and you will place yourself in a position of power. Afterwards, you need only wait for the opportunity to make your move," Ay advised softly, "The Pharaoh himself has given you the means to do so."

"What are you scheming now, Ay? Did you not get your fill of that when you tried to maneuver me into marrying you over Ka?"

"And perhaps if you had done so, my queen, Ka might have lived."

"Or perhaps Tutankhamun would have done away with _you_ instead," Ankhesenamun snapped in challenge. When she was satisfied that she had reminded the emboldened vizier of his place, the young queen inclined her head in thoughtful acquiesce. "Go on then," she invited, "Speak freely."

"Why not do as the Pharaoh suggested to you and befriend Suhad?"

Ankhesenamun grimaced in distaste. "And why ever would I do such a thing?"

"To gain her trust, my queen. The greatest enemy a man can have is the one he cannot see coming."

Although it galled her to do so, Ankhesenamun decided to employ the vizier's advice at her earliest convenience. She waited a few days, until she was sure that she could make an offer of friendship with some modicum of sincerity before she approached Suhad one morning during her regular constitutionals through the garden. After taking a few moments to compose herself, Ankhesenamun fell into step beside Suhad with a demure smile.

"Has my brother managed to convince you that fresh air and sunlight are the cure for all that ails you?"

Her guard raised by Ankhesenamun's sudden appearance, Suhad appraised the queen with a wary, sideways glance but answered her question nonetheless. "I must admit that it has its merits." She continued to survey Ankhesenamun with speculative eyes as they walked along. "Is there something you require of me, my queen?" she asked tentatively.

"I think we both know that title is mere formality now. You should address me informally as Ankhesenamun from this day forth. After all, we are to be sisters."

Suhad stumbled to a halt and blinked at her in mounting incredulity. "I...I beg your pardon."

Ankhesenamun abruptly stopped short and swung round to face Suhad directly. "I wish for there to be peace between us. Is that possible?"

"Peace?"

"Yes, peace. Surely you are aware that my brother intends to make you his queen. Likely soon after the Mitanni threat has been neutralized."

"Oh, so he has informed you of his plans then," Suhad breathed softly as the possible reason for Ankhesenamun's strange behavior began to dawn on her. "If it is your fear that I will act in cruelty against you once I am made queen, allow me to ease your mind on that score. I bear you no ill will."

"Even after all I have said and done to you?"

"You felt threatened," Suhad reasoned magnanimously, "and you have suffered unbearable losses. I've tried to empathize with your position. I cannot imagine that my presence here has been easy for you to bear. I have had equal difficulty with accepting _your_ place in Tutankhamun's life."

"We are both guilty of envying the other," Ankhesenamun acknowledged, "However, now that my greatest fear has come to fruition, I must find a way to turn these circumstances to my advantage."

"I do not wish to be counted as someone you must tolerate or _fear_ , for that matter. I can agree to your bid for peace and I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt but I will countenance no threats against my child."

"You carry my brother's heir. Tutankhamun is my blood, therefore, his child is my blood also. You have nothing to fear from me."

"And you have nothing to fear from me," Suhad returned smoothly, "We can leave matters as they are."

"That is not so easily resolved. It is not enough to simply declare peace. We cannot continue on mistrustful and wary of one another, Suhad. It would cause Tutankhamun unnecessary distress. He wishes for us to become friends. I love my brother dearly and I do not wish to deny him. I would not see him hurt for all the world."

"Neither would I."

"Then we have that common foundation between us. Perhaps we can use it to set aside our differences so that we might act in the best interests of this kingdom."

Suhad did not have an immediate response to that statement. She was too busy reeling from Ankhesenamun's unprecedented offer, not just for peace, but friendship as well. While she was sure that the queen's motivations were mostly born out of a sense of self-preservation, Suhad could not discount that she was, at least, sincere in her desire not to cause Tutankhamun further pain. For all her faults, Suhad did not doubt that Ankhesenamun truly loved her brother...as he loved her in return.

"Yes. I should like for us to put our differences aside and come to know one another better, if possible," Suhad replied after a thoughtful pause, "I know nothing of what it means to be queen or what obligations are entailed for holding such a lofty position. I would appreciate any assistance you might provide in that regard."

Ankhesenamun linked her arm with Suhad's to resume their walk, bending her head forward to conceal her triumphant smirk behind the falling curtain of her long, dark hair. "Of course," she murmured, "However, I may be of support to you."


	22. Chapter Twenty One

**Chapter Twenty-One**

"Is it your intention to never speak to me again?"

Suhad dropped the piece of fruit she had been inspecting back into its cart and turned to regard Nahkt with arms crossed defensively and a guarded expression. While she'd had some time to subdue her aggravation with him since the last time they had spoken, Suhad still held a measure of resentment towards him after their last conversation. Not even his parting reassurance had been enough to banish the hurt and betrayal she had felt.

"What more is there to say? You've made your feelings about me quite clear."

"Please do not reject me for a single, thoughtless remark," Nahkt implored, "I allowed my father to get inside my head. Those were _his_ sentiments I expressed that day, not my own. It will not happen again."

Though her rigid stance slackened a bit, Suhad maintained her wary expression. "Why did it happen at all? I thought you knew me better."

"I did. I _do_ know you better," he insisted, "but sometimes I am far too cynical for my own good. Blame years of experience with my father, who is one of the most double-tongued men I know. From my limited experience with people who possess the power and influence you do, they always seem to wield it in a corrupt manner. I've yet to see an exception."

"I have neither power nor influence, Nahkt. You're mistaken on both accounts."

"And that is _exactly_ the reason I am begging forgiveness now...because you have no idea just how powerful and influential you are," he told her, "Your desires are simple...to love the Pharaoh and to spend your life with him."

"That is the only reason I came to Thebes."

"I know that and I apologize for accusing you before. I was thoughtless and offensive. Please...will you forgive me?"

"Very well," Suhad conceded with feigned sigh of disgruntlement, "You are forgiven."

Nahkt grinned at her. "Thank you. I have missed talking to you, more than you realize."

"And I you. So much has changed since we last spoke."

"Indeed." He inclined a meaningful nod towards her visibly pregnant abdomen. "Allow me to formally congratulate you on your impending motherhood."

"Thank you," she murmured somewhat self-consciously, "Were you shocked to learn of it?"

"Not particularly. Given your _unique_ relationship with our pharaoh the conclusion was...inevitable, don't you agree?" Suhad couldn't help but fidget a bit under his probing stare. "I will tell you what _did_ shock me, however," he said, "Your surprising newfound friendship with the queen. When did that occur?"

Suhad snorted a short laugh. "I wouldn't call it 'friendship' just yet. The queen and I are able to tolerate one another now. Nothing more."

"So it is only tolerance between you? You've scarcely been without her company for the past six weeks. I should think it's a bit more than that," Nahkt observed, having the decency to appear chastened when Suhad appraised him with brows raised in curious suspicion. "Servants talk, Suhad. I haven't been following you about like a forgotten pet, if that's what you're thinking."

"Is that how I've made you feel?" she wondered with some remorse.

"Perhaps in a small way," he admitted with a teasing smile, "However, I have been getting the distinct impression that I've been replaced as your closest companion here."

"It's not that at all," Suhad reassured him, "Not even remotely. The queen and I are simply trying to find common ground. She's been surprisingly helpful to me of late. I'm almost inclined to believe she's sincere in her claims of wanting peace and friendship."

"But you don't believe her?"

"I would like to, but I'm wary of her motives," Suhad replied as she resumed her perusal of the market goods. "She is almost too amiable. It doesn't feel genuine."

Nahkt wordlessly fell into step with her. "How so?"

"Only a short while ago she despised the very thought of me. It was her firm contention that my presence would mean disaster for this kingdom and _now_ she seems all too willing to embrace the idea of my becoming queen."

"Perhaps she merely seeks to please the Pharaoh. Or it may be that the recent loss of her child has softened her heart and made her more agreeable to your presence. As you once told me some time ago, people change."

"It's possible, but... The timing is convenient. But then again, her timing is _always_ convenient."

"She could say the same about you," Nahkt pointed out in diplomatic fashion, "After all, did you not announce your pregnancy on the eve of her miscarriage? Which, in turn, secured your position with the Pharaoh and placed you in line for queen. One could argue _that_ was convenient timing as well."

"I can see your reasoning there," Suhad murmured.

"The point is...you both have grounds to mistrust one another but this is the time to put that aside. It can only be advantageous for you to make peace with her _and_ it would be favorable in the Pharaoh's eyes," Nahkt advised,"You would not want to appear resistant to the idea while she seems completely willing, would you?"

"I suppose not."

"Besides that, keeping the queen close will allow you to maintain a watchful eye on her should she attempt any duplicitous actions," he further considered, "You would please the Pharaoh while you also gain insight into whether or not the queen is being sincere after all. What have you to lose?"

Just as Suhad opened her mouth to make a reply to that, a lone woman burst into the marketplace with keening cries. "Please...please..." she begged between violent, hacking coughs that ravaged her frail form, "...please, you must help him! He's dying! My family...they are all dying!"

Before Suhad's natural sense of compassion could compel her forward to offer the woman aid, Lagus suddenly materialized at her side and snagged hold of her forearm while the guard detail with him formed an effective wall between Suhad and the ill woman. "We should return to the palace immediately," he told Suhad, already pulling her off in that direction, "The Pharaoh would not want you to remain here."

"Lagus, wait! What about the woman?" she protested, struggling against him as she watched the soldiers herd the sick woman from the market square, "We cannot simply leave her! She needs assistance! Lagus! Lagus, are you listening to me?"

"There's nothing to be done to help her! Come Suhad, we must go at once!"

Upon arriving at the palace, Suhad immediately began darting through the winding corridors in search of Tutankhamun despite Lagus' instructions for her to stay put, hoping to exact from him some explanation of what had taken place in the market. She could not understand why that woman, who had been clearly in need of aid, had been carted away like a criminal or why no one had seemed inclined to help her. She also needed to know why it had looked as if the soldiers were cordoning off the street... She was so preoccupied with finding Tutankhamun that she didn't even realize she'd passed the queen in the corridor until the other woman reached out to snag her arm as she rushed past. Suhad spun to face her with a startled yelp.

"What has happened?" Ankhesenamun demanded, "Where are you going in such a rush?"

"Have you seen Tutankhamun? I must speak with him immediately."

"He is closeted away with his advisers and will not be available for some time," the queen told her, "Have you not heard? The illness has escaped beyond the boundaries of the quarantine and is beginning to spread throughout the city. Tutankhamun is attempting to devise a plan to prevent further spreading at this very moment. All of Thebes is at risk."

"Oh no," Suhad gasped as the reason for Lagus' urgency became fully clear. "There was a woman in the marketplace and she was so ill..."

"You didn't get near to her, did you?"

"No. The guard detail was there and they came between us. Lagus brought me back to the palace immediately. I had no idea how dire the situation had become."

"I'm sure Tutankhamun merely wished to shield you from the harsher realities."

"He was so hopeful that the quarantine would be enough..." Suhad murmured sorrowfully, more to herself than to Ankhesenamun, "This is terrible..."

"It's very good that Lagus brought you back safely. Tutankhamun would certainly have his skin were anything to happen to you...or the child."

"Yes," Suhad replied absently, her mind already preoccupied with Tutankhamun and the incredible stress he must be enduring.

For weeks, she had watched him agonize over how to best contain the illness and keep it from becoming an epidemic within the city. She knew how diligent he had been about keeping the quarantine maintained and yet, in spite of all his efforts, the disease had spiraled well beyond his control and now his beloved city was at risk. All she could concentrate on at that second was being by his side.

"Where is he now?" she burst out anxiously, already bound in that direction, "In the throne room? I should like to assist him in any way I can."

Ankhesenamun caught hold of her and linked her arm with Suhad's, leading her in the opposite direction towards Tutankhamun's chambers. "Leave it be. This is _men's_ business," she chided Suhad gently, "You cannot overstep your place. Let the Pharaoh make the decisions that need to be made. He will call for you when he requires your presence. In the meantime, you should rest. You look haggard and you seem distraught and emotional. A nap is sure to improve your disposition."

"But I don't want to sleep!" Suhad protested, shrugging from her hold, "I want to be at his side. He cannot be without support. This is his greatest fear realized."

"And you will be at his side soon. I know you want to fix this for him. _I_ do as well. But we cannot shield him from the darker aspects of his rule. Tutankhamun must solve this very difficult problem on his own. That is why _he_ is Pharaoh. And we must support him no matter what decision he makes. That is _our_ responsibility, Suhad."

"What can I do in the meantime?"

"Wait for him in his chambers. He will be glad to find you there once his business has concluded as he will likely need your comfort."

"If you think it's best..."

"I do. Think of the child. My brother would not be pleased if you were to cause yourself undue stress and, thereby, jeopardize your pregnancy. I promise I will update you with any news."

"Very well. A short nap would probably be good for me. I am exhausted." Suhad favored her with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Ankhesenamun."

"We are family now. We must look out for one another."

Ankhesenamun was careful to maintain her sisterly facade until Suhad had disappeared from her view and only then did her deep scowl of displeasure manifest itself. She whirled on her heel with every intention of barking at the nearest servant to find her the vizier when she discovered him standing directly behind her. Under different circumstances she might have chastised him for lurking but, at the moment, she was too infuriated by her forced cordiality with Suhad to lay into him. Ankhesenamun fixed Ay with a narrowed glare before ordering her attendant detail to leave them in privacy.

Once they had withdrawn from them, Ankhesenamun hissed, "What news from your son, Ay? I cannot bear another moment of humbling myself before that woman!"

"Patience, my queen," Ay soothed, "You have come too far to compromise it all in a fit of temper."

"Does she trust me or not?" the queen ground out impatiently.

"According to Nahkt, she continues to maintain some reservations about your motives at this time," Ay revealed with some hesitation, "I believe he managed to compel her to reconsider her feelings but only time will tell if he was successful."

"What?" Ankhesenamun exploded, "Pray tell, what is the delay with this? He's supposed to be convincing her of the merits to forming an alliance with me! How difficult can that be?"

"That is easier said than accomplished, my queen. You must remember that you were not very welcoming of Suhad when she first arrived. Those bad feelings must be overcome."

"Or perhaps your son should spend less time being charmed by her and more time focused on his task!" Ankhesenamun bit out, "I've seen the way he looks at her. I'm not a fool."

"Nahkt will do his part," Ay assured her, "You do must do yours, my queen."

Ankhesenamun threw up her hands in frustration. "What more is there? Tell me! I have done everything... _everything_ you advised me to do! Short of prostrating myself across the floor and allowing her to use me as a stepping stool, what else can I do, Ay? Tell me, of what use is all this subterfuge if nothing at all is gained?"

"Have pat-,"

"-Oh, curse you and curse your patience as well!" the queen snapped, "I've had enough! This cat and mouse game has not accomplished a single thing! I'm wasting my time."

"Not at all," Ay argued, "You have learned the nuances of your enemy, her strengths and her weaknesses."

"To what end? I've learned is that she is willful and stubborn and has an exasperating habit of acting without thought of consequence! Typically, such qualities would be abhorrent and troublesome in a future queen but my brother seems to laud her independence. In truth, her willfulness only inflames his ardor. So tell me, how exactly am I benefited by knowledge of her flaws?"

"You must consider how you can use that knowledge to your advantage, my queen."

"I'm so sick to death of your riddles, Ay."

"Very well then. Allow me to provide you with another alternative."

"And what is that?" Ankhesenamun scoffed irritably.

"It is possible that Suhad's own compassionate heart could provide you with the opportunity for which you've been seeking."

Intrigued by his tone, Ankhesenamun tabled her rising ire and inclined her ear. "I'm listening."

"I'm told that this afternoon in the market square she tried to approach the sick woman, imagining she could provide her with some aid no doubt," Ay recounted with a derisive eye roll, "If she was willing to risk her personal well being for a perfect stranger, imagine what she would do for those whom she loves? Her emotional state is quite precarious at this time and, thus, she is very susceptible to making rash decisions."

"What are you suggesting, Ay?"

"We both know what the Pharaoh has decided to do in order to quell this epidemic. Were Suhad to find herself in the quarantine area tonight she would likely get swept up with all of those being cordoned off in the sector to be burned."

"Are you implying that I send her to her death, Vizier?"

Ay was careful not to take a definitive stance so as to remain able to assume plausible deniability later. "I'm merely providing you with options to lure her beyond the safety of the palace walls, my queen. That is but one consideration. You have many choices at your disposal. The point is...what befalls her once she is out of the palace is beyond my knowing _and_ your control."

An hour later Ankhesenamun had Suhad summoned to her chambers. It was clear at first glance that her rival had not gotten any sleep at all. Even at a distance, Ankhesenamun could discern that Suhad was a nervous knot of energy. She appeared harried, restless and just a tiny bit desperate...which proved to be a perfect emotional state to suit the queen's plans for her. The more incapable Suhad was of sound judgment, the better.

"Have you had further word from Tutankhamun?" she asked Ankhesenamun anxiously as she was escorted inside, "Lagus informed me a short while ago that they intend to barricade off the infected section of the city and burn it with the people still inside! Is that really our only option?"

"Regrettably, it is. Tutankhamun has examined the situation from all sides and the only solution is to sacrifice the lives of a few in order to preserve the lives of many." Suhad stifled a whimpering cry behind her hand, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet as she absorbed that grim reality. "I can see how this disturbs you. What was Lagus thinking to tell you such things?"

"The Pharaoh wanted me to know. We promised there would be no more secrets between us." Suhad swallowed past the bitter lump of tears that rose in her throat. "Curse this illness! He must be in agony at this moment to be faced with such an appalling choice. I want to be with him. He should not have to endure this on his own."

"Unfortunately, I have no report for you on that front as I have not spoken to him or seen him since preparations began," Ankhesenamun replied smoothly, though she knew full well where Tutankhamun was at that moment and even had plans to join him shortly, "But I did receive some rather distressing news from the Vizier only a few minutes before your arrival."

"What is it?"

"Were you expecting your parents here in the city?"

"No...no..." Suhad replied quickly, "I...I might have gone to the Vizier months ago and requested having them come for a visit if possible but, since the gates were closed to outsiders, I haven't pushed the matter."

"Well, it turns it out that they were allowed into the city apparently at the Pharaoh's behest. I suppose he wanted to surprise you with their arrival."

Suhad fell back a step with a trembling smile. In her frazzled, emotional state, she desperately grasped on to that small piece of good news. "They're here...in the palace? Where? When can I see them?"

"Unfortunately, due to some confusion, they were denied access to the palace and taken to a nearby inn," Ankhesenamun lied smoothly, "With all the panic going on over the epidemic, the guards are pushing people out of the city and I fear that your parents could be among them."

"No! That cannot happen! I must find them before they're sent away!"

Ankhesenamun blocked Suhad's intention to whirl for the exit. "Do not act rashly, Suhad," she advised, "I know you're anxious to see them and you're likely worried given the chaos unfolding in the streets at this time. However, I merely wanted to make you aware of the situation. It is being handled. I will send my personal guard Sete after your parents and he will bring them here to you."

"I want to accompany him," Suhad insisted.

That was exactly the response for which Ankhesenamun had been hoping, however, she was careful to maintain her facade of devoted friend and not give into Suhad's demand too quickly. "Absolutely not! It's too dangerous. I won't allow you to risk yourself or the child. Tutankhamun would never approve!"

"They are my parents! Sete won't know their faces! What if they are thrown outside of the city before he can locate them or, worse yet, they are caught up in this horrible confusion with the quarantine? I have not seen my family since I left home! I cannot be of any use to Tutankhamun but I can still aid my parents! I could not bear it if something awful befell them!"

"My friend, I sympathize with your plight. I do. But my first obligation is to my brother and to his child. I cannot agree to let you leave. I'm sorry but my answer is 'no.'" It was just the sort of decree Ankhesenamun knew Suhad would balk under and her rival did not disappoint her.

Suhad regarded her with a stony expression. "I am not asking your permission. This will be _my_ decision and mine alone."

"It will not. I am still the queen," Ankhesenamun declared authoritatively, "and I _command_ that you remain here. That is the end of the discussion."

With her entire frame fairly shaking with frustration, anger and fear in the wake of Ankhesenamun's refusal, Suhad clenched her fists at her sides and glared at the queen one final time before stalking from her chambers. After she was gone, Ankhesenamun expelled a shuddering breath of relief upon realizing her trap had successfully been set. It was only in that instant that she realized Ay had been right. All her weeks of humiliating herself had not been in vain after all. Ankhesenamun beckoned her personal guard forth with a terse nod.

"Go now," she commanded, "I've prepared her for you. Now do exactly as we discussed."

With flinty, emotionless eyes, Ankhesenamun watched Sete's retreating back as he set off to do as she had bid him before she decided to follow behind him at a safe distance to ensure that her instructions were carried out to the letter. She had come much too far now to leave anything to chance. Careful to keep herself concealed in the shadows, she watched with bated breath as Sete approached a pacing and quietly weeping Suhad. She pressed back into the pillars to listen to their conversation.

"...only wants what is in your best interest. I can find your parents if you provide me with details on their appearance," Sete was reassuring Suhad softly.

"It would go much faster if I accompanied you. I won't slow you down, I swear it! I know this city well."

"I cannot," Sete protested, "The queen has expressly forbidden it. If I were to take you with me she would most assuredly have my head. Not to mention what wrath would be unleashed upon me by the Pharaoh should anything untoward happen to you."

"What if I could guarantee your safety?" Suhad whispered desperately, "You know the Pharaoh favors me. I shall be made his queen, Sete. I swear if you do this for me, you will be pardoned of all error!"

"I...I don't know..."

Suhad made a desperate grab for his hands, squeezing them between her own and she beseeched him with brimming eyes. "Please...please...what if it were your parents? Would you not do anything to ensure their safety?"

"Very well," he told her, making a convincing production of extreme reluctance, "But you must stick close to me tonight. And not a word of this shall be mentioned to the queen or the Pharaoh."

"No...not a word."

As they quickly disappeared into the murky shadows cloaking the nooks and corners of the palace halls, Ankhesenamun stepped out from her hiding place to watch their departure, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of her mouth.


	23. Chapter Twenty Two

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Tutankhamun paused just outside his bedchamber and inhaled an uneven breath.

His last confrontation with the high priest Amun had left him physically and emotionally drained. The tenuous tolerance they had maintained between them since Tutankhamun had begun assuming more power had all but disintegrated following the young pharaoh's revision of the tribute law and it had been on a steady decline ever since. Now, Tutankhamun had further inflamed the high priest's ire by refusing to pay tribute himself even when his nation was clearly in crisis. His refusal, which was nothing less than willful disobedience and arrogance in the high priest's eyes, had gained him yet another enemy.

According to Amun, he was doing a disservice to his people by his headstrong disregard. He was leaving them without needed protection from the gods and setting a dangerous precedent. It was Amun's conviction that the people were suffering the current epidemic due to the fury of the gods and, had tribute been properly paid, perhaps such a grim fate would not have been delivered upon the people. Tutankhamun recoiled from the idea of rendering worship only to escape punishment. How could such a concept endear one to his gods or compel heartfelt worship?

More and more of late, he felt as if his faith was being tested...or shaken altogether. Tutankhamun began to wonder if perhaps his father had been right to question, not only the will of the gods but the rightfulness of their rulership. Perhaps Akhenaten had discerned the corruption within the priesthood during his rule just as Tutankhamun was beginning to see it fully in his own. The pity was that his father had then assumed the very same corruption he had sought to eradicate. Tutankhamun was determined that the same fate would not befall him.

That was the very reason he struggled so mightily with the bleak decision that had been set before him that night. He had vowed to protect and shelter his people even at the cost of his own spilled blood. To give a decree that would sanction the mass slaughter of his own citizens, the very people who had placed their trust in him, was not an easy thing to do. Tutankhamun felt sick with himself and sick at heart. He had idled in the courtyard for hours, praying to the gods for wisdom and peace of mind and, when none came, praying that his affected citizens in the quarantine meet their ends quickly and without undue suffering. Their echoing silence only further weakened his waning faith.

By the end of the night, all he truly wanted was Suhad. While he appreciated the comforting presence Ankhesenamun had offered to him earlier that evening there was no substitute for how effectively Suhad could soothe his weary soul. He needed to lose himself in her warmth and cleanse himself of the dreadful remnants from that heinous day. Yet, as eager as he was to do just that, Tutankhamun couldn't banish the fear that his actions that night had somehow lessened him in Suhad's eyes. Despite the fact that he had the support of his vizier, his advisers and his military commanders in his decision, it was Suhad's opinion that mattered to him above all else. He could be granted rightful justification by all Egypt but if _she_ condemned him then it would all be meaningless.

He stepped inside his inner chamber, desperately yearning for her loving embrace while simultaneously preparing himself for her possible scorn. To his astonishment, he received neither. His bedchamber was empty. Only the rumpled linen atop of his bed attested to the fact that anyone had been there previously at all. Curious over her absence but not yet alarmed, he called out to her, darting about the room tentatively in case she had withdrawn into the privy to relieve her fickle bladder. Upon discovering that was not the case either, he called to one of Suhad's attendants to provide answers.

"Where is your mistress?" he demanded without preamble, "I was told that she was awaiting my arrival here."

"Yes, my lord. But she was summoned to the queen some time ago. I have not seen her since."

His next order of business then was to seek out Ankhesenamun. On his way to her chambers, he was intercepted by Ay, who grimly informed him that the purging was now complete and tomorrow would they could begin the dismal tasks of carting away the bodies of the infected. Tutankhamun assimilated that news with quick nod, deliberately keeping his focus on discovering Suhad's whereabouts. Upon reaching Ankhesenamun's chambers, he half expected to find her and his sister there together engaged in conversation and, perhaps, even laughing together. When he did not, however, and found Ankhesenamun alone instead, Tutankhamun began to grow alarmed. He looked to his sister for an explanation.

"Where is she?"

Ankhesenamun stood and blinked at him with a blank expression. "Where is who?"

"Suhad. I am told that she was summoned to your chambers."

The queen fought the urge to dart a nervous glance in Ay's direction as he came to stand directly behind her brother, though the vizier had enough composure to maintain an impassive facade. "Yes. She was here. Hours ago."

"Why did you summon her?"

"She was distraught and anxious. I did not imagine the stress would be good for the child. I thought to calm her and lift her sprits if I could."

"Why was she distraught?"

"She was preoccupied for the better part of the day with seeing you. I suppose she felt as if you needed her. I reassured her that you would most certainly seek her out once your business had concluded."

"Then why did she not wait? Where did she go after leaving you?"

"I could not tell you. I am not her keeper, brother."

Tutankhamun placed his hands behind his back and leveled her with a probing stare, suspicion prickling at the back of his neck with her defensive tone. "But you _do_ claim to be her friend, do you not? Surely, she mentioned something to you of her plans for the evening."

"She spoke of seeing her parents again," Ankhesenamun prevaricated on the spur, "I suppose with her time so swiftly approaching she has been missing them more and more of late. She was swept from her village with very little time for goodbyes, brother. It has been difficult for her these past months."

"You believe she meant to return to Amurru? Tonight?" Tutankhamun shook his head in dismissal of that idea. "No. That makes absolutely no sense. She is heavy with child. She would never attempt travel at this time and not without informing me or gaining my permission first."

"My lord," the vizier interrupted after clearing his throat discreetly, "if I may respectfully interject, Suhad has a very willful spirit as everyone present is well aware. She has shown her independence in the past and her inclination to act with or _without_ your permission."

Tutankhamun pinned Ay with a warning look. "She would _not_ leave without talking to me first, especially tonight when she knew it was so dangerous. I _know_ this, Ay."

Ankhesenamun was swift to comment, fearful that if Tutankhamun began asking too many questions her plan would unravel even before it could be fully executed. "As I said before, she was distraught earlier...mostly due to the fact that she had learned of your plans for those infected in the city square," she volunteered, "I think she might have been...disillusioned by your choice."

Unwilling and unable to accept the possibility that Suhad might have run from him again and that the secret fear he had been nursing all night might have actual merit, Tutankhamun swiveled around to face the vizier. "Scour this palace at once! Have the Elite Guards search every street in Thebes," he commanded, "Every market. Every temple. Every corner of this city. I want everyone who came into contact with Suhad tonight questioned extensively."

"Yes, my lord," Ay replied, flicking the queen with a cautious glance, "I shall lead the effort myself."

In the interim, Tutankhamun did not remain idle. He immediately sought out Lagus and the two of them worked together to search all corners of the palace while also brainstorming all the possible places Suhad might have gone that night. "Did she seem angry when you last spoke to her?" Tutankhamun prompted Lagus during their search, "Did she give you any impression that she intended to flee or that she was disappointed in me?"

"Not at all," Lagus said, "She was consumed with worry for you. I could barely calm her. She wanted to come to you earlier, but I...I knew you weren't ready to face her. Was I wrong? Should I have made another choice?"

"No, your judgment was sound. I was somewhat...ashamed to face her before."

Intuitively aware of how highly Tutankhamun valued Suhad's opinion, Lagus sought to immediately reassure him. "Suhad well understood the untenable position in which you had been placed tonight, my lord. She did not think less of you."

"Well, there was obviously something weighing upon her mind this evening or we would not be searching for her now. So, the question remains...where did she go tonight...and why?"

Tutankhamun had every intention of accompanying Lagus out on his search of the city when General Horemheb and Ay intercepted them in the corridors with a message of "utmost importance" just as they were about to exit the palace. The news was not good. Apparently, the Mitanni prince meant to pay them a personal visit in only three days time in order to discuss the terms of Egypt's unconditional surrender. That ultimatum from his enemy was last thing Tutankhamun needed after the evening he had endured and broke what remaining spirit he had. Left with little choice in the matter, he sent Lagus off on his own while he stayed behind to talk strategy with his vizier and general.

"The choice is out of our hands now," Ay told him, "War has come to Egypt's threshold and we must make a response, my king."

"The vizier is right," Horemheb said, "If we are right about King Tushratta's numbers, he will likely move his forces out into the open desert where I cannot defeat him. We must prepare what military might we have at our disposal and draw them into _our_ advantage before we lose our window of opportunity."

"The Mitanni will only respect a show of force, my pharaoh," Ay followed up wisely, "We must present to them a strong and invulnerable Egypt."

"That Egypt does not exist at this time, Vizier," Tutankhamun replied in a dull tone, "The disease took so many. The number within the army has dwindled considerably. There are not enough men left alive to conscript into service. We have _no_ force to show them. I fear Egypt may fall to this foreign invader."

"You do not know what you are saying," Ay concluded in a dismissive tone that was part alarmed and part resolved, "You are weary and heartsick after this evening's events. You should rest. Tomorrow we shall all review this situation with refreshed eyes."

"I cannot sleep," the young pharaoh protested, "Not until Suhad is found and I know she is well."

"You cannot mean to keep vigil all night," Ay argued.

Tutankhamun regarded him with dark eyes leaping with fiery determination. "I can and I will. Leave me now. I would be alone with my thoughts."

He spent close to dawn pacing the inner courtyard vacillating between worry over Suhad and agonizing over how he could possibly protect his people from an inevitable Mitanni invasion. There was a good possibly that Suhad had left him and now his kingdom was on the verge of annihilation. For the first time, Tutankhamun found himself questioning whether or not he was truly equipped to lead Egypt as their sovereign ruler. He knew it was his birthright but he did not at all feel it was deserved. How could he possibly provide stability and protection for his people when he lacked the ability to find stability in his own personal life or to protect himself?

Suhad had once posited a similar question to him not long after they'd met and her concern had been valid. Not so much had changed since then, despite all the grand ideas he'd had prior to returning to Thebes. Despondently, Tutankhamun wondered if it would have been better for him to remain in the desert after all, leaving his kingdom under the control of Ka and General Horemheb. Perhaps if he had, Egypt would not be on the verge of collapse and he and Suhad would be married and happily preparing for the birth of their first child. Those nagging doubts continued to plague him even long after he dropped into his throne and fell into a restless sleep.

The sun had just finished its morning ascent when a weary Lagus returned to the palace. After a short stint of searching, he found Tutankhamun out in the palace courtyard, slumped over in his throne in obvious exhaustion. For a brief moment, Lagus regarded him as he slept, noting how much younger than his nineteen years the king appeared as he slumbered. He was almost childlike in a way, innocent...much too innocent and guileless to bear the oppressive burden that was about to befall him. Lagus inwardly lamented the pain his young pharaoh would face. He hesitated to even wake him at all because he recognized that this would likely be the last instance of peace Tutankhamun would know for some time. Lagus dreaded being the one to take that away.

Left without recourse, however, he stretched forward his hand to nudge his sleeping king awake. It took little more than his touch against Tutankhamun's shoulder to rouse the Pharaoh into complete wakefulness. He reared upright and fixed Lagus with wild, worried eyes.

"Has she been found?" he wondered anxiously.

"Yes, my lord. Come with me."

The physician and his attendants were already waiting in his bedchamber and attending to their unconscious patient when Tutankhamun arrived but he barely acknowledged their presence. Instead, his eyes were drawn to dirty, disheveled figure that lay upon his bed. Even beneath the heavy soot and grime and tattered, scorched clothing, Tutankhamun could immediately see that it was Suhad. He rushed to the bedside and carefully swept up her blistered hand, his alarm increasing exponentially when he detected the discordant whistling that sounded every time she expelled a breath. The laborious rise and fall of her chest along with those breaths alerted Tutankhamun to the fact Suhad's condition was not good. The physician confirmed that fear only seconds later.

"She's in grave condition, my lord," the physician informed him sorrowfully, "Each breath for her is a struggle. I have treated her burns, most of which are thankfully superficial, as best I can but her lungs have been severely damaged, scorched from the inside. There is likely much swelling internally. I see very little chance that she will survive."

"What happened to her?" Tutankhamun rasped, his mind fairly reeling with the bleak news he had just been given.

"I found her in the quarantine area," Lagus answered gruffly, "about to be carted off to the pits with the other bodies. I know that her condition is critical _but_ , she survived that terrible night, my lord, despite the fire and the heat and the smoke. Do not discount her strength of will just yet."

"She _is_ strong," the physician agreed, "but the fight ahead of her will be daunting and her body has suffered severe trauma. It may prove to be too much...even for a spirit as unbreakable as her own."

The next words Tutankhamun spoke sounded as if they were being torn from his chest. "And the child?"

"Your child, for the moment, my king, lives."

Tutankhamun placed his hand against Suhad's rounded abdomen, almost sobbing aloud when his child responded with a sharp thump beneath his palm. Perhaps he was merely desperate to cling to some semblance of hope but, for Tutankhamun, that one small kick felt like reassurance. "Then she _will_ live," he determined with tearful insistence, "...for him." He glanced back at Lagus, his grief becoming intermingled with confusion and gathering anger. "Why would she be in the quarantine at all? She would have known better than to go near there!"

"I questioned several guards that were stationed outside of the gates," Lagus said, "They all confirm that Suhad left the palace last night in Sete's company."

"Sete? You speak of Ankhesenamun's personal guard?"

"I do. There is no doubt. He and Suhad were together."

Tutankhamun made a conscious effort to subdue the rioting emotions that burst forth in his heart with that revelation. He wasn't ready to consider the full implications...not yet. "Find him," he commanded, "I want him questioned immediately. And bring Ankhesenamun to me at once!"

"Yes, my lord."

As Lagus withdrew, Tutankhamun turned his attention back to an ailing Suhad. He reached out to caress her smudged cheek with a trembling hand, flinching inwardly at the incredible heat radiating from her body, before addressing the physician once more. "What will you do for her?"

"I will prepare a pumice of eucalyptus, mint, menthol and spice for her chest as well as a steam bath filled with the same concoction. She must be covered from head to toe with linen to insulate her body and we must fill the room with moist, humid air. No one can enter during that time because such an environment would only bring about illness in the healthy."

"What do you hope to accomplish with this, physician?"

"To help rid her body of the toxins that are causing her fever and also increase her capacity for breath as her lungs heal. _If_ she is strong enough, she may yet survive this."

"She _is_ strong enough. Do whatever you must...but make sure she lives."

"You wanted to see me?" Tutankhamun jerked to attention as his sister's entrance. He nodded for the physician to resume his care of Suhad as he stepped down from the dais to meet his sister. As he did, Tutankhamun watched Ankhesenamun's face carefully as she gradually became aware of Suhad lying in the center of his bed. Her features registered shock and dismay but none of the duplicity he was half expecting to find. "Is that Suhad? What happened to her?" Ankhesenamun burst out.

"I was hoping that you might be able to shed some light on that subject," Tutankhamun bit out.

Ankhesenamun had the grace to appear distressed. "And why would I know?"

"Because she was last seen with _your_ personal guard and somehow nearly died in the quarantine area last night afterwards! Where is he? Where is Sete? I want him brought to me and I want answers, Ankhesenamun!"

"Surely, you're mistaken-,"

"-I am not mistaken! There were witnesses who saw them leave the palace together! Why would he be accompanying Suhad anywhere? Was it at your request?"

"Not at all. That is something you will have to ask _her_...when you are able but, I cannot give you the answers you seek."

"Not true for Sete," Tutankhamun countered in a frigid tone, "He most certainly can provide me with the answers and I _will_ have them, Ankhesenamun...one way or another."

"I'm afraid he cannot give you any answers either," Ankhesenamun replied in a rush of breath, "He...He has gone away from the city, to visit with his family. I granted him permission last night. Perhaps, he and Suhad left at the same time and it was only assumed that they were in one another's company."

Tutankhamun raked her with a skeptical glower. "What a very convenient excuse."

At the moment, she had Sete hidden away due to Ay's fortuitous warning that the Pharaoh was currently seeking him out, but in the face of Tutankhamun's dogged determination Ankhesenamun recognized that keeping Sete concealed would not be enough. She would need to take more drastic actions if she meant to thoroughly cover her tracks, it seemed. Fear rolled through her in cold, creeping waves. Her heart thumped in her chest, so rapidly and forcefully that she was amazed Tutankhamun could not hear it. Despite her mounting anxiety, Ankhesenamun did her utmost to maintain a calm veneer even as her brother continued to regard her with a probing glare filled with mistrust.

"If it would please you," she managed as calmly as she could, "I could try and send a message to him on your behalf, though it is doubtful he will receive it right away."

His response to that was flat, cold and heavy with derision. "And why don't I find that fact at all surprising?"

"Are you accusing me of something, brother?"

"Suhad's last known whereabouts were with _you_ and _your_ personal guard. And yet you would have me believe that you know _nothing_ of where she went or why she would have been found near quarantine!"

" _I don't know_ _!_ "

" _I don't believe you!_ "

Ankhesenamun flinched in reaction to his flaring temper, shrinking back from him then. "You are obviously distraught," she managed in her most affronted tone, "Otherwise, I am certain that you would not be making such hurtful accusations against me!"

The wounded rebuke he detected in her tone managed to curb his anger slightly. "I do not know what else to think. It doesn't make sense that she would leave here without explanation."

"I told her not to go, that it would be dangerous for her to venture outside of the palace. In fact, I expressly forbade it but she was determined to act on her own!"

Ankhesenamun did not realize her zeal to defend her honor was, in fact, her own ruination until Tutankhamun lifted his eyes once more and she noted that their dark depths were swirling with renewed suspicion. "Are you saying that you knew of her intentions to leave last night when she was _'disillusioned'_ with me as you say and yet you did not speak a word to warn me when we were together? You said _nothing_? You _did_ nothing? Furthermore, when I asked you specifically if you knew anything of import, you feigned complete ignorance! Yet _now_ you are speaking with authority? Which is it, sister?"

She flailed about desperately for an suitable response before finally settling with a weak, "I did not wish to incur your anger against her due to her stubborn willfulness."

"So you were protecting her, is that it, out of the benevolence of your abundant heart?" Tutankhamun prompted with evident skepticism.

"Yes! Of course! Surely you realize that such an independent nature is a dangerous quality in a queen! She needs to learn restraint and discipline!"

"So it is your argument that it was Suhad's own obstinacy that led to this tragedy, is that what you're implying?"

Ankhesenamun drew herself up haughtily. "You tell me. You know her better than I, brother."

"We shall see if your personal guard corroborates that story," he replied calmly. And then he leaned in closer to her so that his lips were right against her ear when he added in a soft, menacing tone, "For your sake, dear sister, you should pray that he does."


	24. Chapter Twenty Three

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

Sete, it seemed, had simply vanished from the face of the earth.

Tutankhamun obsessed over that fact as sat on his throne only half listening while his advisers bickered amongst themselves about the impending arrival of the Mitanni prince. Instead of mentally preparing himself for that confrontation, he was acutely aware of his sister seated on the throne next to his, all the while, agonizing over the possibility that she might have conspired to have Suhad killed. He recoiled inwardly at the mere suspicion but nothing else made sense to him, especially not with Sete's unexplained disappearance. The elite guardsman had not been an affluent man or, for that matter, anyone with wealthy connections that he should manage to depart without a trace...not unless he was receiving assistance from some as yet undetermined source.

Despite Lagus' rather meticulous interrogation and search, no trace of the man had yet to be found. To compound the confusion, none of Sete's peers appeared to know anything about his intentions to visit his family and his family certainly hadn't been informed of that intention either. The man had simply left the palace and had not been heard from since. That left Tutankhamun with two distinct possibilities...either Sete had lied to Ankhesenamun about his true objective _or_ Ankhesenamun was lying to _him_. Both scenarios were distasteful but the latter in particular was untenable.

At that point, there was only one person left who could provide Tutankhamun with answers and she was currently fighting for her life and mostly incoherent. Each time he thought of Suhad and the treacherous journey that yet remained ahead for her, Tutankhamun felt physically sick with worry and dread. He deliberately avoided entertaining even the possibility that she might die. His mind simply could not process the magnitude of such an agonizing prospect. Instead, he focused solely on her treatment and providing the physician with whatever supplies he requested, although Tutankhamun did his fair share of questioning the wisdom of said treatment.

Most especially, however, he had a difficult time heeding the decree to keep his distance from Suhad while she healed. In the initial interim after her injury, he tried to comply by situating himself in the guest chamber located adjacent to his own but, each time he lay down to sleep and began to dream, he was plagued by nightmares of losing her. He would awaken with his heart pounding like a drum, shaking uncontrollably and drenched in a cold sweat. Inevitably then, he would be out of bed and running down the corridor towards his chambers before he was even fully coherent in order to prove to himself that his dreams were not, in fact, reality.

Unfortunately, he was never allowed to see her. For his own safety and continued good health, he was kept beyond the perimeter of his bedchambers. The doors remained closed to him. It was that forced separation that proved to be the hardest struggle for Tutankhamun. Knowing that only a room's length separated them and he was unable to go in and touch her was agony for him. He did not like being apart from her, especially when he knew that she needed him. However, he did not rebel against the physician's orders because he didn't want to risk jeopardizing Suhad's recovery.

Furthermore, from a practical standpoint, Tutankhamun could understand the physician's rationale. The man had not been exaggerating when he'd suggested that Suhad's treatment would be intense. The air just outside his bedchamber was so pungent and thick that it was scarcely impossible to stand there, even for a few seconds, without being assailed with a violent fit of coughing and the painful, stinging eyes that accompanied it. Even the attendants stationed _outside_ of his chambers kept their noses and mouths covered. He could not imagine how oppressive it must be _inside_ his chambers.

At first, Tutankhamun hadn't understood how inducing Suhad to harsh fits of coughing could possibly aid in her recovery. He would often pace anxiously in the corridor outside of his bedchamber, listening to the wet, jarring rattling sounds that wrenched from her chest with such force that he was certain she would stop breathing. In those moments, he was certain that, if fever and infection did not kill her, the physician's treatment surely would. Tutankhamun had very nearly been on the verge of ordering his physician to cease his treatments altogether until he finally saw the benefit to Suhad's coughing, evidenced by the pots filled with the vile substance she would expel from her lungs.

After seeing that, he ceased in questioning the physician's judgment altogether. She was ridding the toxins from her body and that, at least, was an improvement in her health. Her fever continued to rage and her delirium persisted but, some healing was taking place, albeit slowly. Now the only thing that remained was for Suhad to awaken fully and _that_ was proving to be the hardest wait of all...

"...we not make a show of force against the prince?" one of his advisers was saying, "Surely, King Tushratta would not act against us if it meant risking his son."

"It would be an advantage to us but a risky one," Ay considered. He turned a glance towards his Pharaoh, who was clearly lost in thought and paying very little attention to the proceedings going on around him. Ay cleared his throat pointedly. "My lord, what are your thoughts on this proposal?" When Tutankhamun appraised him with a disoriented stare, he clarified, "Should we seize hold of the Mitanni prince while we have him in our midst?"

"It _could_ give us the advantage over King Tushratta," General Horemheb theorized, "Bend him to our will, as it were."

"Or it could incite his wrath," Tutankhamun countered, "If we were to hold his son as ransom, what is to stop King Tushratta from coming down upon Thebes with all the force he has? How could we possibly stand against him?"

"We would draw them into _our_ territory and into _our_ advantage where we would, at least, have a fighting chance," the general argued, "Whereas if we were to engage him out in the open desert we would surely meet with slaughter."

Tutankhamun responded with a pensive beat of silence before answering with a definitive, "No. Prince Ti'sata comes in peace to our land today. We will leave him in peace."

"Peace?" Ankhesenamun hissed in fury, "What are you saying? They slaughtered our cousin like a pig and sent her back to us impaled upon a spear! There can be no peace with these people, brother!"

"Silence!" he intoned sharply, "This is what I have spoken and this is how it will be!" He directed an implacable stare at all those assembled before him. "No one will raise a hand against the prince while he is a guest here. We will hear what he has come to say and we will make our answer to him. _That_ ," he finished with a penetrating look leveled at Ankhesenamun, "is all." He waited for the collective nod of assent from those assembled before him before waving his hand in dismissal. "You may leave me now."

"My lord, the Mitanni prince arrives in a matter of hours," Ay protested, "Surely you want to prepare what you are to say to him."

Tutankhamun regarded him with impassive eyes. "And what makes you think I have not?" he challenged, "Leave me." As all assembled before him began to obediently file out of the throne room, Tutankhamun quietly requested that Lagus remain behind. Both he and the commander were keenly aware of the anxious look traded between the vizier and the queen as the two set off in their opposing directions. Once the throne room was empty, Lagus addressed his pharaoh plainly.

"You are clearly distracted," he said, "and your animosity towards the queen is palpable. You must mask your emotions if you wish to gain answers from her."

"I know that," Tutankhamun sighed, "But every time she is near to me, I want to shake her until her teeth rattle! It is not unlike how I felt when I first returned to Thebes. I do not enjoy being surrounded by those who are seeking to undermine me! Is there no one I can trust?"

"You can trust me, my lord."

"And I am grateful to know it. Please do not think I take your friendship or your counsel for granted. Still, the circle of those in whom I can place my full confidence is growing smaller and smaller by the day. It is disheartening, to say the least."

"You have too much that weighs on your mind."

"Really, there is only one thing and yet it colors my perception of _everything_."

Lagus easily determined what his king left unspoken. "How is Suhad? Has she rallied yet?"

"The reports I've been given by the physician have been favorable, I suppose," Tutankhamun replied, his tone sharpened with an embittered edge, "She lives. The child lives. I am still not permitted to see her, however. He says that it is not safe for me."

"I'm certain the physician knows what he is doing."

"I feel as if there is an oppressive cloud of doom hanging over my head and I'm merely waiting for the moment when I will lose everything that is dear to me. I'm sick with dread over it."

"She _will_ recover. I do not doubt her. Nor should you."

"Perhaps," Tutankhamun grunted, "But I cannot worry about that at the moment, can I? Prince Ti'sata will arrive shortly and I'm afraid I have no answer for him."

"What are you thinking?"

"That we have no army. We have no might to show them. And that _I_ will be the one to lose this sacred land and _that_ will be my legacy to my people."

"That is _not_ to be your legacy," Lagus countered firmly, "I know that you are destined for greatness, my lord, even if you yourself cannot see it."

Tutankhamun rested his hand on Lagus' shoulder in a gesture of affection. "You are a good friend, Lagus. I am privileged to have you."

"And you need rest. Sleep for an hour. It will clear your mind."

Despite the restiveness that plagued him, Tutankhamun decided to follow Lagus' sage advice to sleep for a short while. He was extremely glad that he had. When the Mitanni prince arrived at his palace a few hours later and verbalized everything Tutankhamun had been dreading in his heart for weeks, he realized that, far beyond the trepidation and doubt he felt, he had his answer. King Tushratta was a reasonable man. Unlike his son, he was not brash and eager to show his might against those he would vanquish. _Reasonable men_ , Tutankhamun recalled, _would always listen to reason_.

The Mitanni king had every intention of coming against Egypt with every bit of military force he had amassed. However, in his benevolence, he was willing to conquer Egypt without bloodshed if they extended their unconditional surrender. All that was within Tutankhamun's kingdom would then become Mitanni territory, including the great Nile River. The offer for a bloodless coup seemed like a saving grace, especially when there seemed to be no other options before the young pharaoh. Accepting the offer might very well be a way to spare his people and preserve some aspects of their customs and traditions. But, it would most assuredly, mean _his_ death and the death of all those loyal to him.

After his throne room had been cleared, Tutankhamun continued to linger there alone, mentally constructing his response to the Mitanni. He knew that the plan he was considering was bold but he had made bolder moves in the past and found success. He would find it again.

It whilst he was in the middle of mentally formulating the details to his strategy that the physician found him and finally granted him permission to be at Suhad's side. "I have done all I can for her, my king," he told the pharaoh, "Her survival now rest in the hands of the gods." However, he had scarcely finished the statement before Tutankhamun was on his feet and sprinting for his bedchamber.

The moment he entered the interior room all who were inside exited quietly. Tutankhamun barely noticed their retreat as he made his way Suhad's side. He only had eyes for the woman lying in the center of his bed. She looked better than she had from the last time he had seen her though her condition had not improved as exponentially as he had hoped. All the soot and grime had been washed away from her body. Her hair and skin were clean and fresh, her body adorned with gossamer linen. She might have had the appearance of one sleeping were it not for the harshness of her breathing or the fine sheen of perspiration across her flesh that attested to her ongoing fever.

Beneath the light blanket that covered her, the swell of her belly was plainly evident. He placed a trembling hand against the mound, choking out a teary laugh of pure relief and joy when he felt his son thumping around within her. He swept up Suhad's hand and pressed a tender kiss to the back of it. "Can you not hear him, my love?" he whispered to her hoarsely, "Our son is demanding that you to open your eyes now. Can you do that for him? Can you do that for _me_?"

He waited, hopeful for a response to that, his heart aching painfully when he did not receive one. Disheartened, he nuzzled a kiss across her ear, raining small kisses across her temple and cheek. "I miss you so much, Suhad. I need you. Will you come back to me, please?"

"Has there been any improvement?"

Tutankhamun whipped around sharply when Ankhesenamun's voice sounded behind him, furiously blinking back the tears that had gathered in his eyes. He surveyed his sister with a wary stare. "Do you honestly care? Would it not serve you better if she never awakened at all?"

"You are cruel in the things you say to me, brother!"

"And you are transparent. Do not pretend you have any regard for her well being! You allowed her to leave the protective walls of this palace _knowing_ full well what might befall her if she did!"

"Should I have shackled her to your bed?" Ankhesenamun cried desperately, "Tied her to a post perhaps? No one tells her what to do! She does as she pleases, Tutankhamun!"

"Which I'm certain suited you well. You never wanted her here. Do not pretend that it would not please you if she died...and my son died with her."

Ankhesenamun responded to that with a soundless gasp. "When did you begin to hold me in such contempt, brother?" she asked sadly, "When exactly did I lose your trust and respect?"

He turned back towards Suhad, his expression stony. "I don't know."

His words, while quiet and free of scorn and recrimination, were confirmation that he no longer regarded her as he once had, that the bond that they had once shared between them had been irrevocably altered. Ankhesenamun grieved over the loss. It was yet another thing she could count against Suhad.

"I know when it happened. It was when _she_ came into our lives. She has blinded you."

"You're wrong. She's opened my eyes to things you could not possibly imagine," he countered fiercely, "She has made me a better Pharaoh to my people. I am better man with her... _because_ of her."

"And will _she_ help you find an answer for the Mitanni prince?" Ankhesenamun challenged.

He twisted a speculative look at her over his shoulder. "What is it that you are _really_ after, sister?"

"What is your answer to the Mitanni?"

"You will know that when I reveal it to the prince."

"And should I not know what you are to say to him? This is _our_ kingdom, not only _yours_! I am still your queen. I am still your sister."

"I will not jeopardize our land, if that is your fear, Ankhesenamun."

"My only real fear is losing you, brother. I despise this distance that has grown between us. I have already suffered too many losses. I cannot bear another."

He fixed her with a glittering eyes, staunchly refusing to allow the mutinous tears filling them to fall. "Do not do that. Do not play on my affection for you and use it to manipulate me."

"That is not what I am doing at all!" Tutankhamun started to turn away from her and Ankhesenamun made a frantic grab for his arm. "No! Do not look away! Look at me... _please_." With eyes brimming with tears, she waited until he faced her squarely before she uttered with complete sincerity, "I would _never_ do anything to deliberately harm you. I love you. I... _miss_ you."

He searched her beautiful features for traces of guile and deceit but all he could find was tearful honesty stamped all over her anguished expression. Some of the rigidity eased from his shoulders then and he found himself softening towards her. "I love you as well. I want to trust you, sister," he whispered after a beat of silence had passed between them, "but I am suspicious of your motives. If you are seeking to hurt Suhad then you are seeking to hurt _me_!"

"This is not about Suhad. This is about you and I...our blood, our bond as brother and sister...as _husband and wife_! My motives are the same as your own," she told him, "To act only in the interest of this sacred land and uphold the traditions of our ancestors." She reached out to briefly caress his cheek. "Everything I do is towards that end only. My desires are your desires, brother. My heart is your heart...just as it always has been."

Tutankhamun was still wrestling with himself over the wisdom of trusting his sister or maintaining his guard with her when he reentered his throne room with an answer for Prince Ti'sata. After the Mitanni prince was brought in before him, all assembled there, from his military generals, vizier, advisers and high priest to the Mitanni ambassadors who traveled with Prince Ti'sata, held their collective breaths as the Mitanni prince and Pharaoh of Egypt came face to face once more. Both men regarded one another in tense silence before Tutankhamun finally broke it.

"I have debated with my advisers, the gods and, most importantly, myself," he began softly, "King Tushratta holds the advantage. I cannot deny that. But, we are _proud_ people and I would rather see the Nile River run with the blood of every Egyptian in this kingdom before I would cede it to you without a fight."

That pronouncement both shocked, invigorated and enraged the mixed company within the throne room and provoked a low hum of prattle throughout the chamber. Tutankhamun raised his hand in a bid for silence, quelling all noise within the room without a word. "So, in turn," he continued as he stepped down from his throne and began circling the Mitanni prince like a predatory cat, "I offer my own peace terms. We have suffered from illness, that much is true. But the Mitanni have suffered far worse from drought and starvation. You cannot provide for your own army, let alone the nations that stand with you. Your people are suffering and dying.

"Inform your King that he will receive 100 carts stocked with bread, millet and wine...enough to feed your people until the rains come again."

Prince Ti'sata scoffed. "Your last _gift_ was not received as well as you had hoped. Are you expecting a different outcome this time?"

Tutankhamun faced him squarely. "My last gift was for you, Prince Ti'sata. This one is not," he stated flatly, "This is for your people. Tell your father he has misjudged me. If he refuses my offer, Egypt will stand against all the armies of the world and we can no longer stand, I will burn the fields. I will burn our grain. I will leave this kingdom a smoking husk and the Nile itself a polluted stream. Ask your father if he wants a war with no victor!"

"I make no promises," Ti'sata replied with an arrogant lift of his chin.

"Tell your father I have made mine," Tutankhamun replied before turning away to return to his throne. Recognizing his unspoken dismissal, Ay gave the order for the prince to be escorted from the throne room. Once he was gone, dozens of astonished and expectant gazes swung around to Tutankhamun. "Have the carts made ready."

General Horemheb gaped at the command. After such a fiercely impassioned speech, those were the last words he had expected the Pharaoh to utter. "What? Do you truly mean to feed the very army that he intends to send against us?"

"Yes. I do."

"You intend to poison them then?" Ay posited.

"No. The food shall be tested. It must be clean."

"So we are to provide them with full bellies before they invade our home and slaughter us?" Horemheb surmised with heavy sarcasm, "Or, do you intend to hide my men under the bread and grain in an attempt to smuggle them into the Mitanni camp? Tell me, what is your plan now that you have eliminated their one disadvantage?"

"It is not their only disadvantage," Tutankhamun replied evenly, "I know another way into the Mitanni stronghold. Ready 40 of your strongest men for travel, General." He and Lagus shared an unspoken exchange before he added, "They will not see us coming. Lagus, you will oversee the carts. I will give you the exact specifications of what I want included."

"Pardon, Pharaoh," the high priest spoke out before the assembly could be dismissed, "But the gods must be satisfied before you face this challenge."

Ay threw up his hands in disgust. "You speak to the Pharaoh of tribute when we face probable annihilation?"

"What better time to petition their good will?" Amun retorted sharply. He turned back to survey his pharaoh. "The gods watch you, my lord. They know your thoughts. They know your heart. They give rain, sun and the very crops you now give away but, most of all, they will give you victory if you prove your devotion to them."

"You say that the gods know my heart," Tutankhamun considered, "Then they should be well aware of the devotion I hold to this land and my commitment to fulfilling the weighty responsibilities that they themselves have entrusted to me. If my faith and my willingness to serve their purpose is not enough to prove my fidelity to them then perhaps it is time for me to reconsider what gods are worthy of my worshipful esteem."

"You speak the words your father Akhenaten spoke before you and that is a dangerous line of thought, my king," Amun warned.

"I am not my father! You see, I have faith...but in my own will, High Priest. _My_ will. _That_ is enough. When this war is over, the gods themselves will be devoted to me."

He watched the high priest storm from the throne room, followed by his under-priests and lastly those left remaining. Before Lagus could file out with them, however, Tutankhamun detained him. "We must discuss the details of my gift for the Mitanni," he said.

Ay hesitated in leaving, made increasingly uneasy by the Pharaoh's growing reliance on the commander. "Should I remain behind as well, my lord?"

"No," Tutankhamun replied, "Lagus will see to what I need. That will be all, Vizier." He waited deliberately until they had gained privacy before he spoke again. And then he asked, "What is your counsel for me?"

"The Vizier senses your growing distance and it is making him desperate. Desperate men are dangerous men, my lord. The High Priest is also likely to maneuver against you in your absence. I am sure the two are colluding with one another. They should both be arrested."

Tutankhamun silently mulled over Lagus' words. "Ay is a shrewd man, Lagus," he considered, "He has an uncanny ability for making himself an ally to all sides. A very valuable skill in times such as these. He may yet be of use to me."

"He seeks his own interest."

"He does. But, in his way, he cares for me. Besides that, he would not counsel me in a way so that Egypt would fall prey to her enemies. Otherwise, what would he aspire to rule?"

Lagus squinted at him in bewilderment. "I don't understand. You know he seeks your throne and yet you keep him within your inner circle."

"I know what he is and I have every intention of using it to my own advantage."

"And the high priest?"

"He should be handled decisively...but _carefully_. Having him arrested will do little to quell his influence. It may only prove his words."

"He is a fraud and he misrepresents himself as a friend of the people."

"Oh, I am very well aware of that, but unfortunately, my people are not. Amun and his army of priests are more powerful than Horemheb's entire infantry. He will be dealt with soon enough, Lagus. One enemy at a time."


	25. Chapter Twenty Four

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Tutankhamun smoothed his hand across Suhad's forehead, noting the cool, clammy feel to her skin which indicated that her fever had finally broken. That small bit of progress should have renewed his hope in her recovery but, instead, it filled him with dread. She was just beginning to gain strength at a time when he would not be there to monitor her progress or protect her from potential enemies. He would be leaving her soon and the future that lay ahead of him was filled with uncertainty.

In just an hour's time, he, his small band of forty men and a backup battalion would set off for the Mitanni stronghold. His hope was that in three weeks time the Mitanni threat would either be vanquished completely or, at least, cowed enough so that they were no longer a threat to his land. If not, Egypt would be conquered and everything he knew would be changed forever. Either way, the conflict would be over. For the sake of his land, his people and most especially the woman who lay before him and the child she carried Tutankhamun had to accomplish the former.

He bent forward to press a trembling kiss of farewell to Suhad's temple and whispered against her ear, unshed tears making his words gruff in quality, "My love, I must leave you now but, when I return, you and I shall be married and we will raise our son as heir to my throne. And we will once again visit the pyramids and our secret oasis."

"I...think...I...should like that..."

Startled, Tutankhamun reared back with a soundless gasp, completely stunned to find Suhad regarding him with a drowsy smile and a heavy lidded stare. With a yelp of joy, he immediately gathered her up into his arms, embracing her with enough force to temporarily force the breath from her lungs. He burrowed his face in the hollow of her neck, unable to stifle the sobs that welled from his chest. "You're awake! Thank the gods, you're finally awake!"

"Ow...ow...ow..." Suhad groaned weakly, "Not so tightly, please...I hurt everywhere."

Tutankhamun immediately loosened his hold on her and gently situated her back against the bed, murmuring his apologies. He knew he should probably call for the physician right away but he was so overwhelmed by the reality that he was talking to her at all that he was reluctant to divert his attention from her even temporarily. "I did not intend to cause you pain. I'm just so, so happy to see you awake again. It feels like ages since we've spoken to one another."

"What happened to me?" she asked, her tone groggy, "My head is pounding and body feels as if it weighs a thousand pounds. Why am I so weary?"

"You were very badly injured. You almost died."

Her brow furrowed as she struggled to piece together memories that were mostly a fog in her mind. "Died?' she echoed fuzzily before her eyes flared wide and her hands flew to her abdomen protectively, "Oh no! Did I...is the baby-?"

"-Our child lives," Tutankhamun reassured her with a smile, "He is strong and active. I'm surprised you did not wake sooner with all the fuss he's been making."

As if to add validity to his father's words, the baby gave a definitive kick just below her ribcage. Suhad grunted a small laugh, her eyelids sinking closed with relief and fatigue. "I heard you talking to me before. It felt as if I was in a dark, cold place and you were the warm light. I followed your voice...and you led me home."

Fearful that he would break down in front of her, Tutankhamun attempted to distract himself from the lump of pure emotion forming in his throat. "I'll get you some water. You haven't had much to drink in the last four days."

She didn't realize how thirsty she was until the cup touched her parched lips. Suhad downed three full cups before finally wilting back into the pillows with a satisfied sigh. Afterwards, she favored Tutankhamun with a small smile. "It seems we've come full circle, have we not? We began this entire affair with me taking care of you after your injury and now here you are taking care of me."

He brushed his knuckles across the ridge of her cheek. "I didn't do much...mostly I've sat with you and held your hand when I was able."

Suhad reached up to capture his hand and brought it to her lips. "That was enough. I love you." She smiled against his mouth when he peppered firm, loving kisses against her own. Suhad couldn't yet discern all the reasons why he seemed so emotional and distressed but she was glad to be with him. That was all that mattered. They rested their foreheads together, nestling against one another, content merely breathe each other in and be close.

Tutankhamun kissed her once more but this time the gesture was tempered with sadness, almost as if he were saying goodbye... "Oh my love..." he murmured in a mournful tone, "I wish we could have more time together."

"Why can't we?" When he didn't answer right away and, instead, pulled away from her with a shuttered expression on his face, Suhad felt the first tendrils of apprehension prickle at the back of her neck. "You said that I've been unconscious for four days," she observed quietly, puzzled by his inexplicable change in demeanor, "How was I injured?"

"You were found in the quarantine near death," he told her, "No one knows how you came to be there. Have you any idea why you would have left the palace that night or who you were with at the time?"

"The quarantine?" Suhad balked, "No. I can't imagine why I would have been there." She wracked her brain, trying desperately to recall the circumstances that would have led her to being outside of the palace but her mind produced only fuzzy, disjointed images. "The last clear memory I have is speaking to Lagus about your plans for the sick that night." Tutankhamun flinched at the reminder. "Did you go through with it after all?"

"I had little choice," he uttered gruffly.

She groped for his hand where it lay between them and squeezed his fingers when he would have shrank away from her in shame. "Oh, my love, I am so sorry you had to make such an impossible decision. And I especially regret that you had to do so on your own. All I wanted that night was to be by your side."

He surveyed her timidly from beneath his lashes. "You do not despise me for it?"

"I could not despise you for anything," she whispered, "You are my heart."

Unable to help himself, he bent forward to kiss her again, the salt of his tears mingling with her own. "I love you," he said again and again, "I love you so much..." Suhad clasped him to her aa tightly as she could and turned into his body, inundated with the same undeniable need to profess her love for him as well.

"My lord, forgive my intrusion, but it is time."

Tutankhamun and Suhad broke apart at the sound of Lagus' discreet greeting but did not relinquish their hold on one another as they swiveled their bodies to regard the commander upon his entry. Suhad lifted her head and smiled at Lagus warmly, delighting in his utter look of shock when he saw her. "Lagus...my friend. It is good to see you."

Lagus' typically unreadable features positively beamed with an overjoyed smile as he registered Suhad's restored state. "Well, look who has returned from the arms of Osiris!" he laughed, "I never doubted for a single second that you would rally. You're much too obstinate."

"I'll take that as a compliment, thank you kindly. As for rejecting Osiris' arms...it wasn't a difficult choice," Suhad teased irreverently. She slid a meaningful look in Tutankhamun's direction. "There are other arms that I much prefer."

"Can I assume this means you will not accompany us after all?" Lagus asked Tutankhamun, "Shall I inform General Horemheb and the men?"

Suhad bounced a confused look between the two of them, keenly noting the silent conversation that seemed to pass between Lagus and Tutankhamun in those few seconds. "Accompany you where? Why do you both look so grim all of a sudden? What is happening?"

"We are to march on the Mitanni shortly," Tutankhamun told her, "It can no longer wait."

As he expected, Suhad did not receive the news well. She began firing questions at him, one after another. "You're going into battle?" she burst out in rising panic, "When? Why? What has happened to require such urgency?"

"We are to leave within the hour," Lagus explained, "If we are to survive, Suhad, then we must strike first. But the pharaoh is not under any obligation to accompany us." He directed an encouraging look at Tutankhamun. "I know the plan and I can lead the men in your stead if you wish to remain here with Suhad. No one would begrudge you. We well know how fervently you have prayed for her recovery."

Tutankhamun could feel Suhad's earnest gaze boring into him and it tore him apart to deny her and himself as well. He regarded her with a mournful look before turning towards Lagus with a shake of his head. "The offer is tempting, my friend, and I want to stay more than you realize but, we both know I cannot. I began this endeavor and I must see it through to the end."

"Then I will give you time to say your goodbyes to one another," Lagus said, "Suhad, it is good to see you recovered. We will talk again soon."

After he had withdrawn, Suhad struggled to position herself upright against the pillows, clearly confused and distraught. "You're leaving? I don't understand!" she cried, "What is happening? What has changed so drastically in four days that you must go into battle now?"

"Prince Ti'sata came to us as an envoy for his father," Tutankhamun explained, "He brought with him an ultimatum...our unconditional surrender or complete annihilation. If we do not act now, the Mitanni will come against us with all the force they have and we will not be able to stand. I have devised a plan to ambush them and, hopefully, free Egypt from this threat permanently."

"I...I want to come with you. We have had enough time apart and you need me!" She started to throw back the covers but Tutankhamun stilled her intentions to climb from the bed. Suhad bounced a frowning look from his restraining hand to his face. "What are you doing?"

"What are you doing? You cannot accompany me, Suhad, and you know it," he admonished softly, "You are still weak from illness, not to mention you are full with child. The battlefield is no place for a woman, particularly one who is on the verge of giving birth!"

"It will be weeks before this child is born!"

"You cannot risk it," he stated in an unyielding tone, " _I_ will not risk it."

"I followed you into the Mitanni fortress before and fought alongside you," she argued, "This is no different. I will stay far from the battle, if that is your worry."

"That is _not_ my worry. This is not at all like when we went after Lagus together, which, if you recall, was not what I wanted then either."

"Yet, if _you_ recall, we met with success because we were together."

He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead in the hope that the gesture would both express his gratitude and soften his refusal. "My beautiful, brave love...you know that I cannot take you with me."

Though she knew full well that his reasoning was valid, Suhad continued to plead with him. "I do not wish to stay behind. Please, allow me to accompany you. I have always stood at your side, Khaten."

"I know you have...and you will again, my love. But not this time."

Suhad blinked back the hot tears that welled in her eyes. "I feel as if we have lost all of this time together and now I am faced with the prospect of saying goodbye to you. It feels too sudden. I am not ready."

"I feel the same," he confessed thickly, "Believe me, I do not wish to leave you, Suhad."

"When will you return?" she asked in a suffocated tone.

"The hope is that we will resolve this conflict in three weeks and then I will come home to you." Tutankhamun rested his hand against her belly and favored her with a hopeful look. "Just in time for the birth of our son." He offered her a wobbly smile of encouragement, his heart lightened considerably when she tentatively returned one of her own. "I _will_ return, my love. I have all the incentive in the world now."

She drew him close for her kiss, her tears flowing freely. "I will hold you to that. Remember what you told me...there is to be no more broken promises between us."

"I have not forgotten," he whispered against her lips. They shared several more desperate kisses before Tutankhamun finally found the wherewithal to pull away. By that time, they were both visibly raw with emotion. It took several moments before Tutankhamun was composed enough to speak again. "Listen to me. I leave you in very dangerous times. You must guard yourself carefully in my absence as you will be mostly unprotected here," he warned Suhad fervidly, "You are to trust no one, my love."

"Except your sister, of course," she sighed with an ironic smile.

She was stunned, however, when he dismissed her teasing with a terse shake of his head. "No, Suhad. This is very important. Trust _no one_ , Suhad, especially Ankhesenamun. She has motives that are not completely clear to me."

His words provoked a chill of foreboding within Suhad. "You have always been your sister's greatest champion. What has happened to make you wary of her?"

"It is difficult to explain in the short time that I have with you," he said, "Just _please_...maintain your guard with her and I will return to you as soon as I can."

Suhad was still much too feeble to personally see Tutankhamun off into battle but she managed to hobble to the balcony nonetheless to watch him, Lagus, the general and the men with them mount their chariots in preparation to ride out. As they did, Suhad thought about Tutankhamun's departing warning, her mind a jumble with the possible reasons for his sudden suspicion of the queen. However, her worry was momentarily forgotten when Tutankhamun threw a glance up at her and nodded his goodbye. She blew him a kiss and watched as he and his army galloped away and disappeared through the gates.

As their figures disappeared into the distance, Suhad was suddenly was struck with the strange and portentous sense that she would not see Tutankhamun again for a long time to come. Her heart seized with cold terror, so much so that she was compelled by the rash desire to ride out after him. But just as abruptly as the idea surfaced Suhad shook off the premonition, telling herself that she was being overanxious. It was merely an understandable attack of nerves due to the fact the man she loved had just ridden off into battle. The fear had no merit, she told herself firmly, none at all.

In spite of her persisting fatigue, Suhad continued to linger outside on the balcony long after Tutankhamun had gone. When she wasn't puzzling over his cryptic admonition to her, she was trying desperately to piece together the events that had transpired prior to her injury. The memory stayed just on the edges of her consciousness, almost there but cloaked in shadows. She had the very strong sense that something of utmost importance had compelled her to venture outside of the palace walls but she could not recall what that something had been.

Filled with determination to find the answers she sought, Suhad might have remained out there for the remainder of the evening had Tutankhamun's physician not found her and ushered her back into bed with strict instructions for her to remain there. "You are still recovering," he admonished her, "You must not tax yourself or the babe."

He fussed over her, emphasizing her need for food and rest before briskly examining both her and her unborn child. Suhad tried to maintain her patience listened and tested and took his needed measurements. The physician had just finished declaring both of them in good health when Ankhesenamun entered her chambers. Recalling Tutankhamun's earlier warning, Suhad immediately became tense though she was careful to mask her disquietude in the queen's presence.

Ankhesenamun favored her with a careful smile. "I had heard you were recovered," she said, "How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Confused," Suhad replied, "I only had a short time with Tutankhamun before he left for battle. He told me that I went out of the palace the night of the quarantine. Do you have any idea why I would have done that?"

"Why would I know?"

Suhad appraised her with a speculative look. "Because I seem to recall I was with you earlier in the evening."

"Do you not remember what happened the remainder of that night?"

Suhad shook her head. "It's all disjointed in my mind. As I said, I have a vague memory of talking with you but I cannot be certain if I did or not. I was wondering if I might have said something to you about my plans."

"No," Ankhesenamun lied smoothly, "We spoke only briefly that night because you were distraught over what happened in the market. You said nothing to me of why you wanted to go. Nothing at all."

"I'm afraid she needs her rest, my queen," the physician interjected firmly, "Perhaps you could postpone your visit for a more convenient time?"

Ankhesenamun inclined her head in an compliant nod. "Of course. We shall speak again after you have had more time to recover, Suhad."

After she was gone, Suhad relaxed against the pillows and tipped back her head to favor the physician with a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"There is no need for that, child. The Pharaoh entrusted me with your well being in his absence, as well as that of his child's. I will not allow you to be subjected to any undue stress."

Outside of Tutankhamun's chambers, Ankhesenamun was breathing her own sigh of relief which very nearly gave way to a yelp of pure fright when she was immediately intercepted by the vizier as she made her exit. "Why must you continually lurk about that way?" she hissed at him, "You well know how much it aggravates me!"

"Forgive me, my queen, but I am anxious to know what you have learned. What did she say to you?"

"She remembers nothing of that night. She told Tutankhamun nothing."

Although the news was reassuring, Ay still could not relax. "Are you certain of this? Perhaps she is merely baiting you in an attempt to discern the truth."

"I am certain. She is not that clever," Ankhesenamun dismissed, "Besides the two of us, she is the only one who knows for certain what happened that night. Sete is with the gods now. He cannot speak on the matter. You have nothing to fear."

"I do not fear for myself, but for _you_ , my queen. After all, it was not I who sent her into the flames."

"Oh yes, of course. You've insulated yourself quite well as you often do," the queen spat reproachfully, "Yet, I well know you are uncertain of your position with the Pharaoh, Ay. He continues to alienate you just as he is alienating me and, more and more, he rejects your counsel in favor of seeking advice elsewhere. It is clear that his trust is shaken in us both."

"What must be done?"

"Nothing," the queen advised softly, "We wait. I spoke with him briefly before he departed. He is angry with me and suspicious, that much is true, but he does not want to believe the worst in me. I have not lost his love completely, Ay. He will come to trust me again. Give him time."

"And as for me?"

"I will encourage him to seek your counsel once more...when matters are settled."

"That will not happen if he learns the truth about how Suhad came to be in the quarantine," Ay warned.

"And how will he learn of it?" Ankhesenamun challenged with haughty bravado, "I certainly won't tell him! Will you? Suhad cannot recall the events of that night. It is possible that she never will given the trauma she suffered. Matters _will_ settle themselves eventually."

"You seem confident."

"I have faith that the gods will not strip me of everything I hold dear."

"What if you are wrong, my queen, and she _does_ remember? What shall be your recourse then?"

" _My_ recourse? You act as if your hands are completely clean in this!"

"I merely provided you with the options that night. It was your choice to execute them."

Ankhesenamun speared him with a narrowed glare. "It's quite cunning how you have managed to set all of this in motion while keeping yourself completely without spot."

"Please, do not mistake me. This is not an attempt at self-preservation. I will always protect you, my queen," Ay vowed, "I am merely pointing out that you cannot afford to be willfully blind at this time or reckless. You must be prudent and have a plan in place should the situation not turn in your favor."

"She will not remember," Ankhesenamun maintained, "But...if she does, _I_ will deal with the problem. You should have no fear of dirtying your hands. Sete's blood is already upon my own. What is a little more at this juncture?"

"So when you say 'deal' you mean..."

"She is still quite weak and recovering from her harrowing ordeal," the queen considered, "It would not be unthinkable in this precarious time if she succumbed to her injuries."

"Were that to happen, the child would perish with her. It may well be the Pharaoh's last opportunity to continue his bloodline."

Ankhesenamun faltered slightly at that reasoning, knowing full well how important it was to her brother that he produce an heir. Hesitancy over her proposed plan bloomed in her heart briefly before she deliberately quelled it. "The...the gods may yet decide to show me favor. I could still bear him a son. Suhad's child will not prove to be his saving grace."

"It is a risk and the question is, are you willing to take it and bear the brunt of the consequences? Could your conscience truly allow you to go through with such a course of action, my queen?"

"I will do whatever I must to keep my kingdom, Ay," Ankhesenamun told him firmly, " _and_ my brother."


	26. Chapter Twenty Five

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

 _I bear you no ill will. I must obey the queen..._

The words reverberated through Suhad's brain in a sickening loop as she snapped awake from her nightmare, her body trembling and drenched with sweat. She pressed a hand to her thumping heart and sucked in great gulps of air as the final pieces of the mystery that had been plaguing her for the better part of two weeks finally settled into place. What had only been fragmented flashes of memories before was now a complete picture of how she had come to be in the quarantine that night.

Suhad remembered with stunning clarity the torn expression on Sete's countenance as he spoke the words in her dream, only moments before he shoved her through the barricade of the quarantine and closed the heavy wooden door behind her. Her pleas for mercy and aid were quickly swallowed up by the heaving thrust of bodies surrounding her, all begging to be spared from the imminent doom. In the end, she had been left to die among the infected hordes and, it seemed, at the queen's command.

It all came rushing back to her in a sickening tidal wave. Her mounting worry over Tutankhamun... Ankhesenamun with her message that her parents had come to Thebes... The queen's personal guard leading her into the bowels of the city before deliberately turning on her... The baking heat that radiated from the flames and the thick, oppressive smoke that had caused searing pain with each labored breath... The pungent aroma of burning flesh and the piercing screams of the dying...

She realized now that it had all been a ruse to lure her from the palace. The likelihood was that her parents had never come to Thebes at all. Ankhesenamun had merely used them as a convenient means of sending her to her death. Tutankhamun would have surely mentioned her parents before his departure had he been expecting them...which meant that the queen had been manipulating her the entire time. Despite her phony show of devotion and concern, she had known that Suhad would be insistent on going after her parents personally. She had likely _counted_ on it.

Now Suhad was left to wonder who else, besides the queen, conspired against her. Vizier Ay was most certainly second on that list. After Ankhesenamun, the vizier stood to gain the most by her death. Besides Tutankhamun, he would have been the only other person to know how anxious she was to see her parents again. Suhad did not put it past him to use that desire against her.

Without her, there would be no heir and no influence opposing his counsel to the Pharaoh. Nahkt had been right. She _did_ have incredible power. But, while she had been largely ignorant of the influence she wielded, her enemies had known all along. Suhad was slowly coming to realize that she was surrounded on all sides by those who would harm her and her child and, with Tutankhamun and Lagus off on a military campaign for at least another week, she had no one to rely upon except herself.

The understanding left her feeling trapped, utterly alone and defenseless. It was little wonder that Tutankhamun had given her the grave warning he had prior to his departure. She wilted back against the bed, shifting onto her side before reaching out to hug Tutankhamun's pillow against her. She wished fervently that he was there with her right then. Though she understood completely why he'd had to leave, she couldn't help but feel a little aggravated over being left alone to deal with his perfidious court. It seemed the bleak prediction Lagus had made upon her arrival had come to fruition. She _did_ well understand the constant burden that weighed upon Tutankhamun's heart. His enemies had, inevitably, become her own as well.

She seriously considered fleeing the palace but, in her condition, she knew she would not get very far. Though she was still a few weeks away from giving birth, any escape on her part would likely lack the speed and stealth she would require. Nefekare was an option but finding a way to slip out of the palace unnoticed to get to him would prove to be a tricky endeavor. Not only did the royal physician keep a close eye on her but Suhad was keenly aware of the Vizier and queen's constant scrutiny as well. She didn't so much as rise from the bed to use the privy without those two being aware of it.

It was the knowledge that the vizier and the queen kept in constant company of one another that further convinced Suhad that they were conspiring together to kill her. Given that fact, she was extremely careful to keep her suspicions of them hidden even as her memories of that night became ever clearer. Suhad knew that if they discovered that it was within her means to destroy them both she and her child would be in immediate danger. Her constant anxiety over that knowledge was beginning to make her sick, both physically and emotionally.

After an hour of restless tossing and turning, Suhad finally gave up all pretense of continuing her mid-afternoon nap and whipped back the covers with some half formed plan of taking a walk through the courtyard to clear her mind. Not only was she continually besieged with worry over the dangerous position in which she'd been placed, she was also beginning to feel the full discomfort of her pregnancy which was only exacerbated by the stress under which she'd been placed. The intermittent pain that had been nagging at her lower back for months had now become a constant ache which was steadily worsening by the day. The throb was burning and intense and occasionally accompanied by a strange heaviness that would ascend from her pelvis and spread throughout the entirety of her abdomen.

Groaning softly in both pain and frustration, Suhad swung upright and slipped from the bed. The instant her feet touched the floor, however, she immediately doubled over with a gasp as a sharp pain unexpectedly tore across her middle. She gripped the edge of the bed, gritting her teeth as the discomfort tightened and tightened, causing her belly to become taut and filling her groin with unbelievable pressure. Just as she was certain the pain would send her to her knees in addition to stealing her breath, it abruptly began to ease up. Suhad slumped forward in relief, air leaking from her lungs in labored pants.

Suhad was cautiously waiting for another pain and vacillating over whether or not she should call for the physician when Nahkt suddenly entered the bedchamber with a cheerful smile. His smile instantly collapsed, however, when he saw her standing alongside the bed and looking as if she might faint at any given second. "What are you doing on your feet?" he admonished, immediately rushing to her side to usher her back into the bed, "It was my understanding that you are to be on strict bed rest."

"I've been confined to this room for far too long and it's beginning to drive me mad!" Suhad huffed in aggravation, "I need a change of scenery!"

"I well understand your frustration with being confined as I've had my own recent experience with that," Nahkt sympathized, "But it's quite obvious to me that you're still very weak, Suhad. You cannot go traipsing about the palace whenever you please."

"Have you become yet another person who thinks they can tell me what to do?" she demanded tartly.

"I wouldn't dream of it. To do so would be a colossal waste of my time as you would be unlikely to heed any advice I imparted to you."

"Good. Then you will allow me to do as I intend." However, when Suhad made yet another attempt to climb from the bed, Nahkt quelled her efforts. She favored him with a displeased glower. "Is it your aim to serve as my prison guard now?"

"It is my aim to keep you safe. I am your friend," he whispered in a firm tone, "I look out for your interests only."

"Are you, Nahkt? Are you truly my friend?"

He fell back a step, his expression wounded. "I don't understand. Have I done something to cause you to mistrust me, Suhad?"

"It's not that at all," she sighed, tears welling in her eyes unbidden, "I just...I feel so alone here and I need...I _really_ need someone I can rely on fully. I need to know that I can trust you because I have no one else."

"You can," he insisted fiercely, "I would do anything for you."

"What of your father?" Suhad challenged, "Does he exert control over you as he exerts control over everyone in this palace?"

"If he did, you and I would not be friends, Suhad."

She bit her lip in uncertainty, desperately searching his features for any signs of deceit before finally turning aside to pull a parchment scroll from beneath her pillow. She leveled him with a beseeching look. "If I asked you to do me a favor, no questions asked, would you do it?"

"What do you need?"

"I need you to deliver this message to man in the city," she said, "His name is Nefekare. He's a soldier in the army. Take this to him personally. He will know what to do."

"How do you know this man? How can you be certain he did not accompany the Pharaoh on his military campaign against the Mitanni?"

"I'm not certain. But, if he is there, you must give him the message. All you need to know is that I trust him and that I need him here...as soon as possible. Please deliver it personally. _Now_ , if you can."

"What does it say?"

"I...I cannot tell you that...and I'm trusting you not to read it. Just know that it is sensitive information and it is important that he receive it immediately. There can be no delay."

Nahkt's eyes darted between the scroll and her face before he extended his hand and murmured, "Of course. Whatever you ask."

After a brief moment of hesitation, Suhad placed the message in his palm. "Thank you, Nahkt."

Upon leaving the Pharaoh's bedchamber with the scroll in hand, Nahkt waited until he was well beyond the perimeter to unroll the parchment and read what Suhad had written. His first reaction to what he had read was shock and disbelief but those feelings were all too soon replaced by anger. He tucked the scroll into the waistband of his tunic and went stalking directly for his father's chambers. He barged inside just as Ay was pouring himself a cup of wine. The vizier regarded him in wordless expectation.

"You tried to have her killed?" he snarled, throwing the scroll onto a nearby chaise in disgust, "That is not what we discussed, Father!"

Vizier Ay set aside his drink and surveyed his son with an impassive stare, careful to keep his emotions neutral. "Is that what she told you?"

"She wrote it in a letter actually," he said, "To a man, a soldier named Nefekare. She told him that he is the only one she can trust and the only one who can protect her and her child at this difficult time...because there are those in the palace who seek her death! Is it true? Did the queen deliberately send her out into quarantine to die?"

"We have discussed this, my son," Ay bit out, "You know there cannot be an heir!"

"Yes! I know that the child must not live, but Suhad... I never agreed that she should be harmed!"

"What did you imagine this would come to?" Ay demanded hotly, "The queen is not a threat. Her womb is poison. She will _never_ bear the Pharaoh a child that lives. Suhad is different! She is young and obviously fertile! Should this child not survive, there would be another to follow it and another and another! Eventually, she will bear the Pharaoh an heir and everything we have worked to build will be for nothing!"

"I don't want her to die," Nahkt uttered thickly, "I care for her, Father. I...I _love_ her."

"Love her?" Ay closed the distance between them, framing Nahkt's face tightly between his hands. "Do you imagine that she will choose you, my son? It will always be _him_. Even when he is dead, you will _always_ be second! She was never within your grasp. You must harden your heart against her."

"You mean as you hardened your heart against my mother?" Nahkt spat.

"She would have left you...she would have left _us_ both in the end. I spared you pain," Ay insisted, "As I am trying to spare you pain now. You cannot allow your actions to be dictated by sentiment. We have come too far and we are too close to hesitate at this juncture. Let this play out."

Nahkt shrugged away from him, blinking back the tears that formed in his eyes. "What will you do?"

" _I_ will do nothing," Ay told him, "I will give this message to the queen and _she_ will carry out what she deems is necessary."

"You mean she will kill her!"

"I know nothing, except our hands will be clean. That is the truth."

"Your truth is always a matter of perception, Father."

"Nevertheless, it is the queen's decision. We are only to serve her interests as loyal servants."

"Suhad does not trust her. She will not fall for the queen's tricks again."

"But she trusts _you_."

"No," Nahkt replied with a revolted sneer, shaking his head firmly in response to his father's implicit expectation, "I won't be a part of your schemes against her any longer!"

Before Ay could open his mouth in an attempt to reason with Nahkt, the queen slipped surreptitiously into the chamber, causing both Nahkt and the vizier to start guiltily. "My queen!" Ay burst out in surprise, "I was not expecting you."

"Clearly," Ankhesenamun intoned with a glower directed in Nahkt's direction, "Is there a problem?"

Ay mentally groped around for a response to her demand, fearful over the possibility that Ankhesenamun had overheard certain aspects of his conversation with his son that he'd wanted to keep secret. "I don't understand what you are asking, my queen."

"Does your son intend to betray us?" she demanded shortly, "Because that cannot stand, Ay."

"I never agreed that Suhad should be harmed in this," Nahkt declared, "I will not have it."

Ankhesenamun's brows shot up in challenge. "Yes, you will," she determined, "Do not forget yourself, boy! You will have what I say, when I say or _I_ will have your head. It is as simple as that."

"Please, my queen..." the vizier pleaded, "Have patience with the boy!" He gestured to the scroll lying across his chaise. "He only just learned of the events the night of the quarantine and he is upset."

With a wary expression, Ankhesenamun bent to retrieve the fallen parchment and unrolled it, her eyes scanning across the contents. Her haughty veneer slipped in gradual degrees as she digested the full implication of what she'd just read. She pivoted to regard Ay with a stricken expression. "Who else knows about this?" she demanded.

Ay stepped forward and plucked the paper from her fingers, placing it on a nearby torch to burn. "Only the three of us," he said, "And that is how it shall remain."

The queen watched the parchment burn with unseeing eyes. "Not as long as Suhad lives."

Nahkt regarded her with a superior look. "She will tell the Pharaoh everything you have done, my queen. Where do you imagine that will leave you?"

"Where do you imagine it will leave _you_?" Ankhesenamun countered coldly, "Should you give me up, I shall give you up just the same. The Pharaoh's affection for me might very well be enough to spare my life but what will spare yours?" She leveled Ay with a steely stare. "Or your father's?" Nahkt's bravado crumbled quite easily in the face of her implied threat, not only against him but against his father as well. He ducked his head in defeat. "The facts are clear...if we are to protect ourselves, then Suhad must die. Now this is what must be done..."

An hour later, Nahkt returned to the Pharaoh's chambers, reluctantly prepared to carry out the queen's command. He was to deliver a poisoned tray of food to Suhad and ensure that she eat it. According to his father and the queen, the poison would dispatch her within minutes of digestion and she would feel no pain when the end came. The reassurance wasn't quite enough for Nahkt. He couldn't help but feel torn between his desire to protect Suhad and his loyalty to his father. When he entered the inner chamber, he was still locked in an internal struggle over whom he should choose.

Suhad scrambled upright on the bed at his unexpected entrance, confused and dismayed to see him standing there with a tray of food balanced in his hands. After spending the better part of the day dealing with sporadic contractions and general discomfort, seeing him standing provoked a plethora of contrasting emotions in her already anxious state. "What are you doing here?" she burst out, "Have you already delivered the message? Did Nefekare accompany you? Where is he?"

Nahkt placed the food tray on a nearby table, deliberately impervious to her growing alarm. "I brought all of your favorites," he told her, "So that you have a variety from which to choose. You don't have to eat just now. I thought, perhaps, that we could talk first."

"What are you doing here, Nahkt?" Suhad enunciated again, more stridently this time, "I would have imagined you would be with Nefekare at this time."

"There is no need for you to be anxious. It is being handled as we speak."

Rather than assuaging Suhad's fears, his words heightened her anxiety to new degrees. "You cannot mean to imply that you sent my message by third party?" she gasped.

"I thought it best that I remain here with you given the circumstances."

"I specifically asked that _you_ deliver it personally," Suhad cried, "I thought you understood how important this was to me, Nahkt!"

"I _do_ understand," he insisted fiercely, "Why do you imagine I stayed? I am not the one who abandoned you and left you vulnerable to the murderous machinations of the queen! That would be our precious Pharaoh Tutankhamun! I would never leave you unprotected as he has!"

Suhad jerked to attention, as stunned by his outburst as she was by the implications it created. "Oh, please no..." she muttered in disappointment, "You read it, didn't you? After I specifically asked you not to do so! Why? Why would you do that? You broke my trust!"

"You speak to me about trust? What about you? You've done nothing but keep secrets from me from the very beginning! You didn't even tell me about your child! I had to discover that thrilling truth through palace gossip! You say we are friends but then you prove by your actions that you do not trust me at all!"

"Is it any wonder?" Suhad cried, "When you do things such as this? Did you even deliver the message to Nefekare at all?" The guilty diversion of his eyes was more than answer enough. "No, do not tell me..." she moaned in horror, "Please, tell me you did not give it to your father, Nahkt."

"You don't understand, Suhad. My father has a plan for the future that is bigger than the two of us. It is in motion now and I cannot stop it! But, if you will only trust me, I can protect you. We can be together! I will love you and your child!"

"Be with you?" Suhad gasped incredulously, "Is that what you thought all this time? I could _never_ be with you even if Tutankhamun did not claim my heart so completely! Have you no scope of the danger in which you have placed me and, most importantly, _my child_? You are a liar and a betrayer! You are no better than your father! Tutankhamun warned me against trusting you and I was a fool not to listen to him! You have broken my heart, Nahkt!"

" _I_ have broken your heart?" he bit out furiously, "How can you say that to me? How can you look at _me_ with disgust when I am the one who stayed behind? I have always been here, Suhad! I am the one protecting you while he has neglected you again and again! _I_ was the one who listened when he was too preoccupied to hear you. Yet, inexplicably he remains your hero!"

"He has gone to risk his life on behalf of all Egypt, to fight for _your_ freedom! Don't you dare speak an ill word against him! You don't have the right! You're not even worthy to speak his name!"

Nahkt suddenly snapped to attention, an eerie calm befalling him with furiously impassioned words. It was just as his father had told him earlier. Suhad would never choose him. He would always be second in her eyes, always less. She would never love him as he loved her. He _had_ to harden his heart.

With calm resolve, he stooped to retrieve the tray and carried it over to the bed, placing it at the foot. "You should eat," he advised her in a flat tone, "I brought everything I knew you would like. You are overwrought at the moment. It cannot be good for your child."

"I'm not hungry. I want you to leave."

"I care for your well being, Suhad. I have only ever wanted what was best for you."

She fixed him with a hard, unyielding glare. "I don't believe you and I never will again. Leave me now."

Suhad watched him leave, unmoved by the remorseful glances he directed back at her over his shoulder. Her countenance remained resolved, stony and unforgiving. She dissolved into broken sobs only when she knew he was well out of earshot. She cried for the mistaken trust she had placed in him, for her own stupidity and mostly for the loss of the friendship she thought they had shared. Once her tears were spent, however, Suhad recognized that she had little time to grieve over losses. The time had come to act. She could no longer wait for a savior. She had to save herself.

With only the immediate thought of escape most pertinent in her mind, Suhad started to climb from the bed with every intention of gathering up whatever parcels she might need for a long journey. She never made it beyond packing. Almost the instant she went started to swing her bag up onto her shoulder, an powerful contraction seized her, tightening so forcefully in her abdomen that it caused her to drop her load and stumble back towards the bed with a ragged groan.

She bunched her fists in the sheets, biting her lip against crying out as she waited for it to pass. "Please, little one, not now," she panted harshly as she sank to her knees, gritting her teeth against the mounting pain, "Could your timing possibly be worse?"

Alarmed, but no less determined, Suhad stumbled to her feet after most of the pain had abated, resolved to continue with her plans to flee the palace that very night even if she risked having her child unattended in the middle of the desert. Unfortunately, the baby proved to be just as stubborn as its mother. Suhad had traveled no more than six feet from the bedchamber entrance when she suddenly felt a strange internal pop followed by a wet trickling sensation between her thighs.

A low groan of consternation shuddered from her chest. With great reluctance, Suhad tipped a glance down at the floor. One glance the growing puddle at her feet told her all she needed to know...her opportunity to escape had now been lost.


	27. Chapter Twenty Six

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

By the time Ankhesenamun came whipping into her brother's chambers, coldly determined to finish the job that Nahkt had failed miserably in carrying out, the physicians and his attendants were already there and situating Suhad more comfortably upon the bed. Ankhesenamun furtively concealed the dagger she held in her hand behind the gossamer veil of her flowing, green skirt before it could be detected by those presence. Once she was composed, she darted a questioning glance at the physician.

"What is happening?"

"The child is coming, my queen," the physician informed her in between coaching Suhad on the position she would need to assume for the birth, "We must prepare mistress Suhad for the birth." Suhad and Ankhesenamun locked eyes across the distance in a silent clash of wills as the physician added, "By morning light, the Pharaoh shall finally have an heir to his throne."

To her credit, Ankhesenamun's expression barely faltered with that pronouncement though she felt as if an agonizing void had yawned open in her heart. It was the culmination of everything she had been fighting against since the moment Suhad had stepped foot in the palace. She had lost...as if the inevitably of it all had been ordained from the start.

"May the gods be praised," she uttered thickly, "Please keep me informed of your progress."

The blood was fairly roaring in Ankhesenamun's ears as she stiffly exited the chamber, so disoriented by the news that she did not immediately discern Ay's sprinting approach until he was directly at her side. She surveyed him with vacant eyes. "Please, my queen..." he panted out, "Please, tell me you did not do something rash..."

"Calm yourself, Ay," Ankhesenamun replied gruffly, "I did nothing. Suhad lives. What's more...she is to give birth this night."

"It cannot be. I thought her time was yet weeks away."

"As did I. According to the physician, however, the child should arrive by the morning." She wilted back into a nearby post, the dagger falling from her loosened grip and clattering uselessly to the floor. Her expression was haunted as she looked ahead with unseeing eyes. "It is over now."

"My queen..."

"My brother will finally have his son and his queen and I will likely be executed for treason."

"Do not be presumptuous. The night has not concluded. You have no idea if the child will be born alive, let alone healthy and thriving. There is no guarantee that Suhad will even bear a son. There are still many variables involved, my queen. You don't know what is going to happen."

Ankhesenamun grunted a humorless laugh. "But I _do_ know," she whispered, "It is just as Tutankhamun has always believed, Ay. This is the will of the gods."

"You are distraught. You do not know what you are saying."

"I cannot lie to myself any longer. It was never just about producing an heir. I _wanted_ a child. I wanted _that_ child, _my_ child so much. He was all I had left of him..."

"The Pharaoh?" Ay ascertained softly.

The queen shook her head slowly as silent tears began to track down her cheeks. "Ka. It was _his_ child that I miscarried, Ay. But the gods took him from me just as they took away the previous two children that belonged to my brother. Their message is clear. I'm not meant to be a mother."

"Listen, my child," Ay hissed in a fierce whisper, "You must never, _never_ repeat what you just confessed to me to anyone else. It cannot become known to the Pharaoh ever!"

"Of what consequence would it be?" Ankhesenamun wondered with a dismissive shrug, "I'm a dead woman no matter what. There's nothing left to lose."

Ankhesenamun had every intention of remaining shut away in her chambers until Tutankhamun himself arrived to drag her out but, as it got later and later into the night, the sounds of Suhad's laboring cries as they echoed throughout the palace halls eventually beckoned her out of self confinement. Something deep and inexplicable compelled her to be present for the birth. Perhaps it was her continued loyalty towards her brother or even her own natural curiosity. Whatever the reason, Ankhesenamun found herself surreptitiously entering the birth area through the open double doors once more. This time she kept herself tucked quietly in the corner of the room and quietly watched events unfold without alerting anyone to her presence. There was something masochistic about vicariously living out an experience she had yearned to have most of her adult life through the eyes of her most hated enemy.

Suhad was helped to balance on her haunches near the edge of the bed by two of the physician's assistants, one flanking her on either side while the physician and his mid-wife talked her through each contraction. She was completely naked now. Her sheer, linen nightgown which was stained with blood and body fluid had been discarded long ago. Her hair had long since come completely unbound and hung about her perspiring face in messy, coiling locks. If the agonized grimaces that contorted her features every other minute were any indication, Suhad was most certainly experiencing the worst pain of her life and... Ankhesenamun had never envied a woman more.

When her contraction finally passed, Suhad collapsed back against the bed, half panting, half sobbing. "Please...please...I cannot..." she moaned pitiably, "...I cannot anymore... Where is Tutankhamun? I want Tutankhamun..."

"The head is crowning," the mid-wife informed the physician, "She needs only to push a few more times to expel the child."

"Suhad, you must listen to me," the physician urged, "I know you are tired, child, but your son must be born. With your next birth pang you must push with all your might and you must continue to push until he has come into this world. Do you understand?"

In spite of her flagging will, Suhad managed a feeble nod. "Yes..."

"Get her into position," the physician said, "We will start again with her next contraction."

Less than an hour later and after waging the mightiest fight she had ever known, Suhad finally gave birth to the future Pharaoh of Egypt. The silence of the room was pierced with the sound of the infant's strident cries just as the physician joyously announced, "It is a son! He is small, but he appears to be strong and sound."

No one noticed as Ankhesenamun slid down the wall with silent, wracking sobs because they were all too busy admiring the newborn's stunning beauty, chuckling over his righteous indignation over having been so unceremoniously delivered into a cool, foreign world, and carefully inspecting his body for any defects. After rubbing him completely dry, the mid-wife finally placed the swaddled infant into his anxious mother's arms. Suhad took one look at her son's tiny, puffy features with his swirling jet hair and pink cheeks and she instantly fell in love. No man besides Tutankhamun and her own father had ever laid claim to her heart so effortlessly but her son, her small, helpless, newborn son had, within seconds, taken hold of it in his tiny fist. Suhad knew that he would hold it for the rest of her life.

"He's so beautiful," she breathed, carefully unwrapping him to inspect every miniature finger and every miniature toe. She placed petite kisses to each one. "You're so beautiful...just like your father. I love you so much, little one. I'm so happy that you are here." She fixed the physician with an overjoyed smile. "He's perfect. Everything about him is perfect. I cannot wait for Tutankhamun to meet him."

"The Pharaoh will be pleased."

"I want word sent to him immediately that his son has been born," Suhad said, "I want him home."

The physician nodded to a nearby servant. "Make it so. Inform the messenger that he should ride nonstop if necessary." Once the servant had scurried off to fulfill the order, he turned back to address Suhad while his mid-wife attended to the afterbirth and cutting of the umbilical cord. "What will you name the child?" he asked Suhad.

Suhad never once lifted her eyes from her son when she answered. She feathered her fingers lightly across his cheeks and nose and eyes, unable to stop touching him at all. "Tutankhamun and I will decide that together when he is home again."

"That is certainly a wise choice."

At the sudden intrusion of the queen's voice, everyone within the chamber went quiet and still. Half a dozen pairs of eyes swung around to regard Ankhesenamun as she emerged from the shadows where she had been concealing herself, clearly dismayed and surprised by her presence. Suhad reflexively clutched her son closer to her breast, eyeing Ankhesenamun with wary suspicion as the queen made her approach.

The physician was the first in the room to recover from his shock. "My...my queen, how long have you been present?"

"Long enough to know I have become aunt to a nephew," she said. And then she inclined her head towards Suhad and forced a small smile. She held out her arms. "May I?"

All eyes then turned to Suhad in anticipation of the new mother's response. "You may not hold him," Suhad determined gruffly, "But you may come closer to look at him...if you must."

Ankhesenamun offered no rebuke in response to Suhad's terse edict but instead gracefully accepted her rival's grudging invitation and climbed the steps of the dais to look upon her nephew for the first time. He blinked his eyes open as she made her approach and she noted that they were dark and enigmatic much like his father's. His skin was paler than she had expected, his cheeks were round and ruddy and his tiny nose and mouth were equally pink. The silky hair atop of his head was thick and clung to his scalp in jet waves. He clutched his mother's finger in one, tiny fist as if he never meant to let her go. Ankhesenamun felt her heart swell with something she had not expected, something kindred that drew her to the baby even as her heart yearned to reject him.

The queen lifted glistening eyes to Suhad and uttered with genuine sincerity, "You are right. He _is_ perfect. Absolutely exquisite in every way."

"You mean in spite of being a half-breed bastard?" Suhad bit out coldly.

A small wince flashed across Ankhesenamun's countenance before she resumed her usual impassive mask. "None of that matters now, does it? That fact is no longer relevant as we both know that he will become heir to his father's throne."

"And _I_ will be queen," Suhad added tautly, "And once I am, I will make sure that _all_ threats to my son are removed." She regarded Ankhesenamun with a ruthless stare. "That is a promise, Ankhesenamun."

Flustered and filled with dread at the direct threat Suhad had launched against her, Ankhesenamun abruptly straightened and cleared her throat. "Of course... Well...I'm sure you would like some private time to get better acquainted with your child. I will leave you to it then."

When Ankhesenamun finally stumbled from the chambers she did not seek the solitude of her own rooms as she first intended but instead sought out Ay. Despite his many machinations and manipulations, she knew that he was possibly the only person in the entire palace who could provide her comfort right then. He was the closest thing she'd had to a father while growing up and, right then, she needed his support regardless of what motives he might have for giving it. Without preamble, she staggered into his inner chamber, struggling to hold back her anguished tears. Ay took one glance at the emotional devastation darkening her pretty features and he knew immediately what had left her so gutted.

"Suhad has born a son, hasn't she?" he concluded flatly.

"Yes. And he is healthy and...beautiful, almost indescribably so. He is small, that is true, but it is clear he possesses both his father and his _mother's_ stubborn will. He will be a mighty one."

Ay squinted at her in surprise, easily detecting the pride underneath the defeated sorrow in her tone. "You have affection for the child?"

"I did not expect it but...I am drawn to him. He is my blood, after all."

"What will you do now?"

Ankhesenamun scoffed. "What can I do, Ay? It's over. Suhad has made that abundantly clear. She seeks my death and, likely, she will have it."

"No, my queen. It is only over when the Pharaoh returns," he told her, "Until then, _you_ are queen. At this moment, you still have time to act."

"And do what?" she cried.

"Your earlier concerns are still valid. You must do what you feel is necessary."

"I attempted to do that earlier this evening if you recall. You did everything in your power to stop me," she reminded him.

"Because you were acting without thought. You weren't being rational when you grabbed that dagger and rushed off! You cannot murder her outright. Such matters require artifice and finesse. Emotion cannot have a part in it at all."

Ankhesenamun flicked her hand in an indifferent wave. "Well, that is no longer an option now."

"How so? Suhad remains your enemy, does she not?"

"She does," the queen confirmed, "She has taken everything of value to me. But it was different while she yet carried the child inside of her. He was a threat to me, one that needed to squelched at all costs but he was merely a construct at that time...an idea. He was not real to me. Now he has a face and eyes that are reminiscent of my brother. I see in him all the things my child could have been and I cannot harm him, Ay."

"I understand the reason behind your sentiment. It is the mother in you that softens your heart towards the boy, but remember... He is _still_ a threat, my queen," Ay pointed out softly, "To your ancestral bloodline. To your history. To the Egyptian race! There will be a Mitanni Pharaoh on the throne. Your forefathers' blood will be forever wiped from history. The purity of your bloodline will be no more. Is that what you want?"

Ankhesenamun wrestled with the answer to that question for the next four days. Ay's frank considerations had struck of chord of valid concern within her. Since her childhood, when she had yet been too young to even understand the duties that would be thrust upon her as queen of Egypt, the paramount need to maintain a pure, untainted bloodline had been drilled into her just as it had been drilled into Tutankhamun. They had always been united in their common goal to fulfill that purpose. They had always been of like mind and heart...until _she_ came.

Now it was all falling apart. She would most certainly be executed. A Mitanni queen would sit on the throne of Egypt and her son would one day be crowned as Pharaoh. Hundreds of generations would be negated by his very existence. He would be the first Pharaoh to sit upon the throne who was not a god reincarnated in man's form. A portion of him would always be common and ordinary because his mother had been common and ordinary. He would, consequently, pass down that flawed bloodline to his sons and his sons' sons and so on and so on until the history of her and Tutankhamun's forefathers was thoroughly erased. Ankhesenamun knew that she could not allow that to happen. She had to do whatever was necessary to protect her dynasty and bloodline.

With that resolve fixed firmly in her heart, Ankhesenamun crept into her brother's bedchamber several hours after midnight. Suhad lay curled on her side near the edge of the bed, sleeping soundly. Her son's basinet was situated next to her less than a foot away, close enough for her to reach out for him should he awaken in the night. Ankhesenamun tiptoed closer, angling a peek over the edge of the basinet in order to study the infant.

He was lying on his back with his eyes open, surprisingly alert and looking incredibly content. He blinked up at Ankhesenamun with a guileless expression and, in that moment, Ankhesenamun could clearly see traces of her brother in his features. She noted that in the four days since she had seen him last, his pale complexion had darkened to a smooth caramel color though his cheeks and small mouth remained pink and vibrant. He was so incredibly lovely that it was almost impossible for Ankhesenamun not to feel a pull of affection towards him. With a faint smile, she reached down to finger the downy softness of his cheek. Her smile only widened when she moved lower to touch his hand and he caught hold of her finger in his tenacious grip.

For a fleeting moment, she let herself imagine what it would be like to be a mother to him. With Suhad gone, she and Tutankhamun could raise the child together as their own. He would never have to know of the disparity in his bloodline. She and Tutankhamun could finally have the family they'd always intended. Perhaps the gods would finally smile on her then and grant her a daughter and the traditions of their ancestors could be continued as they had been for generations. The purity of their bloodline could be restored or, at least, preserved.

Perhaps it did not all have to be lost, Ankhesenamun considered. After all, Suhad was the true threat. _She_ was the one who counseled Tutankhamun to the detriment of his people. _She_ was the one who had blinded him to his duty. Surely, things could go back to the way they had been, especially now that Tutankhamun had an heir, were Suhad no longer a factor. The more she considered that fanciful scenario the less ludicrous it seemed. So caught up was she in that delusional fantasy that Ankhesenamun didn't even discern that Suhad had begun to stir on the bed until she bent forward to scoop up the baby.

"Get away from him!" Suhad leapt off the bed with the speed and precision of a striking cobra, shoving Ankhesenamun back with all of her might before she could gather the baby into her arms. The queen went careening across the dais, crashing against the floor in a tumble of arms and legs. "Don't you dare touch him!"

Ankhesenamun quickly scrambled to her feet as Suhad stalked towards her with brutal intent. She took hold of the queen's upper arm in a punishing grip and yanked her forward. "You are never to go near my son again! Don't even _look_ at him! Is that understood?"

"Let me go!"

"I will kill you first!" Suhad ranted, shaking her forcefully, "Do you hear me? _I will kill you_!"

"Release me!" With a shove of her own, Ankhesenamun freed herself from Suhad's grasp and delivered a punishing slap to her enemy's cheek. "How dare you come against me in violence?" she hissed furiously, "I will see you dead by morning!"

Suhad launched herself at Ankhesenamun before she could even attempt to call for the guards. She quickly yanked up and fistful of the queen's hair and smacked her across the face with a closed fist. "Not if you're dead first!" she growled.

The two women struggled and heaved against one another, slapping and scratching, kicking and biting, grunting harshly as they drew blood, left deep gauges in one another's flesh and vied with each other for the upper hand. Both women were evenly matched in strength and equally motivated. Ankhesenamun had a small advantage over Suhad due to other woman's recent childbirth and weakened state as well as powerful incentive to ensure her own survival. Suhad, on the other hand, was spurred on by a mother's love and the fierce, animal instinct to protect her young.

Somehow, in the midst of their brutal wrestling, they ended up on the bed together with Suhad straddling Ankhesenamun's prone form. Suhad's slender fingers were wrapped around the queen's delicate throat in a vise grip as she attempted to choke the life out of her enemy. Ankhesenamun struggled desperately for air but she was unable to peel Suhad's hands from her throat. Her grip was too tight and her determination to end Ankhesenamun's life too fierce. The queen flailed helplessly, her panic growing as she felt the life slowly slipping out of her, her vision gradually growing dimmer.

As her world began to reduce down into a single pinpoint of light, Ankhesenamun used the last of her waning consciousness to grope blindly for something, anything she could use as a weapon. She would not die in this manner, she determined in her heart, and certainly not at the hands of her brother's common village whore! When her fingers finally landed on something solid, a heavy, stone statuette that had been positioned on the table next to the bed, Ankhesenamun snatched it up frantically and swung it forth with all of the strength she had remaining.

The object met the lateral portion of Suhad's skull with a sickening thud. She slumped forward with the blow. At first, Ankhesenamun could process nothing beyond shoving Suhad's prone figure aside and dragging great gulps of oxygen into her starved lungs the instant Suhad's grip on her throat loosened. She coughed and sputtered, willing away the waves of dizziness and nausea that assailed her. Only when she was certain she wasn't going to faint did the full impact of what she had done fully settle on Ankhesenamun.

Suhad lay sprawled across the bed, eerily quiet and unmoving, her eyes fixed in a lifeless, vacant stare. There was almost no blood present, only an innocuous trickle that escaped from one nostril and meandered down her cheek to soak into her unbound hair. What was more alarming was the small indentation in her skull where Ankhesenamun's killing blow had found purchase. The queen gagged, recoiling with a repulsed gasp as she recognized her hated enemy was dead. She turned away, clamping her hand against her mouth in an attempt to keep back the bile that rose in her throat. At long last, she finally had the thing she had been wanting for months and none of the satisfaction she had expected. Instead, she felt empty, broken, lost and, most of all, afraid.

She rose up on trembling knees and nudged Suhad's still form, shaking her again and again as if she thought she could simply awaken her from sleep. "No...no..." she wept over and over again, "...wake up...you cannot be dead...you cannot... He will never forgive me! Do you understand? I will lose him forever..."

But Suhad was beyond hearing her tearful pleas and she did not wake up. Ankhesenamun knew that it was much too late for remorse and regret then. What was done was done and she could not go back now. With a tremulous whimper, she reached forward and closed Suhad's eyes with shaking fingers. "May you find peace in the afterlife," she whispered.

It was only then that Ankhesenamun became aware of her little nephew's discordant cries sounding behind her. She slid from the bed on wooden legs and approached the basinet with detached calm. Now there could be no traces left. Tutankhamun would never be able to look upon his son's face without the reminder of her betrayal. He would never consent to allowing her to be near the child now. Their bond would be permanently destroyed. He would most certainly put her to death.

There could be no fulfillment of her earlier fantasy, she realized, and without her the impurity in their bloodline could not be prevented. All that she had feared would happen and worse as it was likely her nephew would take a wife as common as his own mother had been. The precedence had been set and her brother, with his skewed judgment, would only encourage it. She had to face cold, harsh reality and that reality was that she had set an entire scheme of events into motion with her first attempt on Suhad's life. Now she had to finish it.

Overwhelmed with corrosive self-hatred yet resolute in the course she had chosen, Ankhesenamun bent over to gather the squalling infant into her arms and cradled him close against her. She nuzzled sweet kisses across his downy scalp, soothing him with soft words of endearment and comfort until he finally quieted. With her tears soaking into his delicate skin, she reassured him that he was loved and would have been loved greater still by his father. And then she gently, but firmly covered his tiny mouth and nose with her hand. The baby flailed in her arms, his indignant whimpers muffled behind her fingers.

"May Osiris greet you with open arms, sweet prince," she murmured hoarsely as the baby's jerking motions finally slackened and stilled completely, "You are with the gods now."


	28. Chapter Twenty Seven

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

Lagus had no idea how his Pharaoh managed to remain conscious let alone keep himself in a standing position within the chariot as they made their galloping approach towards the palace gates. He had been bearing weight on a broken leg for the better part of four days and the physical stress the effort was causing his body was beginning to become manifest. It was quite clear that the young king was in excruciating agony, yet it was also clear that something greater than the pain was spurring Tutankhamun onward. He was riding on pure adrenaline at the moment. After all, it wasn't every day that a man learned he had just become a father.

They received the news by messenger on their second grueling day of travel across the desert. Following the victory against the Mitanni which had ended with the death of King Tushratta and a grave injury to the Pharaoh, Tutankhamun had insisted that he and Lagus leave immediately in order to thwart whatever plans the high priest had in mind for him. However, Lagus had suspected that Tutankhamun's urgency had less to do with Amun and more to do with a certain village girl from Amurru who carried his child.

Regardless, he had not argued with Tutankhamun but had readied them both for the taxing journey back to Thebes. On the second day, however, when it became clear that Tutankhamun was very near to collapse, Lagus had finally managed to convince his stubborn king to take a much needed break. It had been the commander's hope that the Pharaoh would have at least a full day's rest before they resumed their grueling pace. That hope disintegrated with the messenger's arrival in their camp. Upon learning that Suhad had given birth, Tutankhamun's determination to return to Thebes without delay only increased tenfold. For him, the news was a fitting end to the victory he had attained.

Not only had he vanquished the Mitanni threat with his daring ingenuity and military tactics but he had unified his men and gained the respect of the entire army, including that of General Horemheb. By the conclusion of the battle, Tutankhamun had already determined that he would pardon the man for his crimes. However, by the end of the night when the general took it upon himself to personally fashion a makeshift splint for his pharaoh's shattered thigh bone, Tutankhamun was certain he could count the general as his friend. And now he had learned that his child had been born, a son and future heir to his throne. He had attained all he had set out to do except for one important detail: he would finally make Suhad his wife.

And therein lay the true reason behind his hurry to return to Thebes. Yes, the high priest was very likely plotting against him at that very moment but Tutankhamun's greatest concern was reaching Suhad's side. He wanted to hold her again. He wanted to lie down next to her and feel her breath stirring against his skin. He wanted to see his son and hold him in his arms. And he wanted to spend the rest of his life basking in the joy they had both brought into his life. It was that all encompassing desire that kept him from succumbing to the pain radiating through his entire lower half right then. He pushed past the agony because he knew there was something better waiting for him. There would be time for medicine, treatment and rest later... _after_ he reunited with Suhad and his son.

When they finally began to slow in front the grand palace entrance, Tutankhamun didn't even wait for Lagus to stop the chariot completely before he was lurching forward and attempting to step down from the vehicle unassisted. Lagus caught him before he could go tumbling, looping Tutankhamun's arm about his neck in order to steady him so that he could assist the impatient Pharaoh up the palace steps. Tutankhamun stumbled several times, yelping aloud each time he placed too much weight on his injured leg. Still, that did not keep him from breaking away from Lagus the instant his bedchamber came into view and limping off on his own.

He hardly felt any pain at all as he burst through the tall double doors into the inner portion of his chamber. The torchlight was low but even in the dimness he could make out Suhad's silhouette on the bed. She lay propped against the pillows, her hands folded across her abdomen, her face in the perfect, peaceful repose of sleep. The corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile as he looked upon her, imagining the prospect of waking her with a kiss. His smile only widened when he noted the basinet at the bedside that, no doubt, cradled his sleeping son.

His heart brimming with love and excitement, Tutankhamun limped forward and approached the basinet, sneaking a careful peek down at his son. He lay swaddled in his blankets, his small face relaxed and peaceful in sleep. Tutankhamun suspected his feelings were dredged in bias but he was quite sure that his son was the most beautiful child ever created. He was still too young to have any real distinctive features belonging to either of his parents but Tutankhamun imagined that he could see Suhad there, particularly in the curve of his nose and his lower lip.

Shaking with awe, Tutankhamun stretched out his hand to sift his fingers through the baby's silken swirls of hair before bending down to drop a light kiss to his forehead, careful not to wake him. However, the instant he touched his lips to the baby's alarmingly cool skin, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Tutankhamun pulled back with a deep frown.

With quickened breaths filled with burgeoning dread, he began skimming his fingers over the baby's forehead and cheeks before finally tugging away the blankets to determine whether or not his son was actually breathing. When he realized that he wasn't, he scooped the infant against his chest, sobbing harshly when the infant merely hung there limply in his arms. His mind was racing with dozens of questions as to "why" and "how" even as he was in denial that the child was actually dead.

"No...no...no...no...please, no..." he wept brokenly, unable to fathom how he had gone from such incredible happiness to such debilitating grief in so short a period. Overwhelmed with the magnitude of the loss, Tutankhamun pressed several lingering kisses to his son's head, murmuring sweet words of love against his skin, before carefully placing him back into his bed and covering him with gentle hands, as if he were only sleeping.

Tutankhamun stumbled back a step with a small yelp of anguish, his heart pounding with unnamed panic and fear when he thought of waking Suhad with the news that their son had passed on into the afterlife. He bounced an apprehensive glance over to her, unable to even formulate in his mind how he would ever deliver such crushing news...only to gradually come to the realization that Suhad was as gone from his world as his son.

He didn't need to get closer to her to recognize that she was dead. While she had appeared to be sleeping from a distance, Tutankhamun could now see the truth clearly with more proximity. No matter how perfectly arranged her body had been, the trauma she had suffered was evident in the bruises and injuries that marred her face and body. Her eyes were ringed with dark color, the rich hue of her smooth, bronze skin already fading to an ashen gray. Tutankhamun stumbled to the bed with a keening cry, falling across her body with bitter, broken sobs.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, my love..." he wept into the crook of her throat, "...I promised I would protect you both and I failed... I failed you...and I failed our son... Forgive me...please, forgive me..." He kissed her lips, her eyes, her cheeks, his tears spilling over her cooling skin as he whispered apologies to her again and again.

"I am so sorry, my lord." Tutankhamun jerked upright at the intrusion of Ay's gruff offer of condolence, his expression nothing short of devastated. He regarded the vizier with a haunted look. "She and the boy passed from this world only a short time ago."

"I know this was not the will of the gods," Tutankhamun managed hoarsely, "This was man's doing. Tell me what happened to them." When he received no immediate answer to that, he demanded more forcefully, "What happened, Ay?" He impaled the vizier with dark eyes hardened with gathering rage and glistening with unshed tears. "Answer me! Look at me and tell me why Suhad and my son are dead!" The vizier met his eyes then and the answer Tutankhamun found in his expression only served to confirm what he already knew.

Impervious to the constant pain throbbing through his leg, Tutankhamun hopped from the bed and went stalking down the steps of the dais, his sole intent to find Ankhesenamun. He didn't have to look too far for her. She sat on the steps just outside the sacred hall, her head bent and shoulders stooped with resolve, as if she had been waiting for him all along. Tutankhamun raked her with a scathing glare, his fists clenched at his sides as he exercised every bit of self control he had left not to strangle her on sight.

"You will get on your feet," he ordered her with deceptive softness. Ankhesenamun lifted her head at the command but did not immediately comply. Her lack of initiative only ignited his rage. "Get on your feet!"

As she stood up on trembling legs, Tutankhamun lurched forward and yanked back the thin cloak she used to cover herself. He grabbed hold of her arms, noting with mounting disbelief and fury the deep lacerations and bruises that ringed her neck and covered her uppers arms and torso. He met her vacant eyes with a menacing glare. "What did you do tonight?" he uttered in a searing whisper.

"I have been telling myself a thousand lies, brother," she murmured brokenly, "But I can no longer lie to myself or to you. I am tired. What I did tonight, I did for us."

She had barely finished the last of that statement before his hand was around her throat. He gripped her hard, holding her body aloft just slightly. "For us?"

"For our bloodline," she wheezed, "For our dynasty...our future generations..."

"He was my future generation," he hissed through clenched teeth, "My son...you took him from me..."

"He was not pure! He could never be Pharaoh!"

He tightened his grip on her neck. "He was a child, my child! I loved him! I loved them both! He was innocent!"

"No, he wasn't..." Ankhesenamun gasped as her oxygen supply began to dwindle, "...and neither was she. They were threats...they would have destroyed everything we have...worked to build... You know...in your heart...that you could never...be with them..."

Tutankhamun released her neck and shoved her away with a repressed sob. "You are wrong! They were all I had left in my heart." He looked away then, unable to bear the sight of her any longer. "Imprison her," he ordered the guards who had come filing inside shortly after he'd entered. After they had taken hold of a distraught Ankhesenamun, he declared in a tone devoid of all feeling, "When festival of our victory over the Mitanni is concluded and the people of this city once again bask in the glory of their kingdom, they will bear witness to your execution. I hereby sentence you to death by beheading."

He barely registered Ankhesenamun's screams of protest as they dragged her from the room. He felt as if he were trapped in a void where he could feel absolutely nothing, not pain, not anger, not even grief. Without acknowledging any of the sympathizing stares that fell upon him, Tutankhamun turned to exit the room with no real destination in mind. He didn't even realize that Lagus was present among the onlookers until the older man reached out a hand to still his departure.

"My lord, tell me what I can do for you. How can I ease your pain?"

Tutankhamun stared down at the hand gripping him with empty eyes. He shook off Lagus' hold. "You cannot. There is nothing anyone can do."

In the end, he decided to return to his bedchamber because that was truly the only place he wanted to be right then. He tenderly lifted his son from his basinet and carried him over to the bed, positioning him gently on the pillows between himself and Suhad. He then placed his arm over both the baby and Suhad and pulled them closer, pressing his face into Suhad's cheek and letting his eyes sink closed. He had no idea how long he lay there, praying, waiting, wishing to die before his royal physician entered and placed a tentative hand against his shoulder.

"My lord, you must allow me to tend to your leg otherwise you risk an infection."

He did not even spare the physician a glance when he answered but, kept his eyes trained on Suhad's still face. "I am not in pain."

"You are already beginning to burn with fever. You must receive treatment if you are to recover."

"Tell me about them," Tutankhamun whispered gruffly, ignoring the physician's warning altogether, "Tell me about the birth. Tell me about Suhad."

"What do you want to know?" the physician asked in a tentative tone.

"Did she labor long? Was she in much pain? Was it a complicated delivery? Tell me everything."

"She labored through the night but she bore the pain well. She was very brave but she was also very frightened," the physician recounted, "She wanted you to be here and called out for you many times." Tutankhamun emitted a small whimper filled with sorrow at that but otherwise remained silent. "The baby was healthy despite being a bit early and somewhat small. However, he had very strong lungs and an obstinate spirit. He would have lived a long, prosperous life."

"What did she name him?"

"She did not name him. She was waiting for you, my lord."

While nothing else seemed to penetrate the shell of numbness that had begun to grow around his heart, that revelation brought with it a fresh wave of wracking sobs. "I don't know what to do anymore... I don't know how to go on without her," he wept.

"My lord, you must go on," the physician urged him, "Please...allow us to take the bodies and prepare them for burial. What you are doing is not healthy."

"No...no...don't take them! Do not take them from me..."

"My lord, they are with the gods now."

Tutankhamun snarled at him, more like feral animal than a man in that moment. "Do not touch them!"

"Tutankhamun, stop this." He jerk his head around with the soft utterance of his name, not at all surprised to find Lagus standing there. It was the commander's lack of formality with him that caught his attention more than anything else...because it was evident that Lagus was relating to him as a sincere friend and not a servant addressing his king. "You are ill and distraught and you are not thinking clearly," he told Tutankhamun gently, "You must allow the physician to care for your leg. I will take care of Suhad and the baby. You know you can trust me. I will show them nothing less than the reverence they deserve."

"I don't want them to be taken away," he whispered mournfully, "There will be nothing left when they are gone. They are all I have."

"That is not true. You have Egypt. You have your people. And you have me. I will not leave you." Lagus stepped forward and placed a tentative hand on Tutankhamun's shoulder. "Let me take care of them for you."

Tutankhamun darted a wild look between Lagus and the physician before gazing down at the still faces of Suhad and his son. Finally, he consented with a small nod. "Together, Lagus..." he uttered thickly, "...make sure they remain together..."

"I will. I promise you."

The following day, Tutankhamun drifted through his duties as if in a fog. While reclining on his chaise, he only half-listened as Horemheb, Lagus and Ay briefed him on their plan to thwart the high priest Amun's plot against him during the festival. He was mainly preoccupied with thoughts of Suhad and his son's burial that afternoon and the letter he had reluctantly penned to her parents informing them of her premature death. He refrained from mentioning how she had died, however, recognizing that her family already had plenty enough for which to despise him without adding that to the list.

It was in that guilt-ridden state of mind that he'd had his final confrontation with the high priest. Shortly before Suhad and his son's interment, the high priest had approached him with thinly veiled barbs beneath the insincere offers of condolence. He had been nothing short of arrogant and self-assured. Amun completely believed Tutankhamun to be exposed and without protection and now, also, in a vulnerable state brought on by grief. He felt empowered because he thought he had both the vizier and general Horemheb's fidelity in his plan to assassinate the pharaoh. What he did not know was that his agents in his duplicitous were actually planning to betray him.

"Everything is in place, my king," General Horemheb assured Tutankhamun, "When you give the signal then my men will carry out all your judgment against the high priest. Then Egypt will, at last, truly be free from all of her enemies."

"May it be just as you have spoken, my friend," Tutankhamun replied, "Thank you. You may take your leave now. There is much planning to be done if we are to be ready in time for the festival."

After General Horemheb had left, Lagus volunteered to retrieve the physician so that Tutankhamun might receive another dose of medicine for his infected leg, sensing without being asked that Tutankhamun wanted the opportunity to speak with Ay alone. Once the room was empty of everyone except the two of them, Tutankhamun regarded Ay with an expectant look.

"I sense you've wanted to speak your mind for the better part of the morning," he observed, "You may do so now."

After a fleeting instance of hesitancy, Ay approached Tutankhamun's side with a heavy sigh. "Are you in much pain?"

The question was a needless one. It was easy to see that he was. His lips were compressed in a tight line. His entire body trembled and was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He looked, for lack of a better description, gray in pallor and quite ill. And yet, despite that visible evidence, Tutankhamun replied, "I'll manage it."

"Are you sure you would not rather take some time to rest?" Ay advised, "You are clearly unwell and grieving deeply at this time. Horemheb and Lagus will see to it that the high priest is dealt with accordingly. There is no need for you to have a hand in this."

Tutankhamun pinned him with a deadly stare. "There is every need. Amun has subjugated my people. I will personally see to his end."

"And the queen?" the vizier questioned boldly.

"I will see to hers as well," he grunted.

"Perhaps you can...reconsider your decision on that. She...she was not in her right mind that night, my lord."

"Do you dare defend what she did? Are you justifying her actions?"

"Not justifying," Ay clarified quickly before Tutankhamun's anger could blaze, "...explaining. When Suhad gave birth to your son something snapped within the queen. For her, that child represented everything she had lost in the past year. She was not thinking clearly. I am not suggesting that you pardon her for her crimes but...spare her life, at least."

"No. She had no mercy for Suhad. She had no mercy for my son. I will show no mercy to her."

"She is your sister, my king."

"I have no sister, Ay."

The vizier was cut off from further argument on the subject with the arrival of Lagus and the physician. After close inspection of the Pharaoh's injured leg, the physician determined that Tutankhamun should not stand on his leg any longer. It was his recommendation that Tutankhamun be confined to strict bed rest for the remainder of his convalescence in order to allow the medicine to do its work of healing. He firmly believed that if Tutankhamun did not stay off of his leg that he would be dead by nightfall and he told his pharaoh exactly that.

Tutankhamun received that ominous news with almost an emotionless calm. While he and the vizier seemed adamant that Tutankhamun could carry out his part in the judgment against the high priest, Lagus was firmly in the physician's corner, rallying for Tutankhamun to rest and recuperate. Despite Tutankhamun's determination to do otherwise, Lagus kept on emphasizing his opinion on the matter too as he helped Tutankhamun prepare for the festival.

"When will you finally listen to the advice I give you?" he admonished the young pharaoh.

His answer to that was a wry smile. "I do listen...sometimes."

"You heard the physician, Tutankhamun," Lagus pressed, "You're pushing yourself too hard. Are you trying to die?"

"Tell me...why should I fear the afterlife, Lagus," Tutankhamun wondered softly, "when I know that they await me there?"

"Do not be in such a hurry to meet with death, my lord," Lagus beseeched him, "I have already lost one dear friend. I would prefer not to lose another so soon after."

The celebration festival began with the presentation of the Pharaoh to his people. They cheered and lauded him when he came to stand before them dressed from head to toe in the finery fit only for a king, never imagining the debilitating pain he was enduring. Wine and food flowed freely as the people rejoiced in their freedom from the Mitanni threat while Tutankhamun sat on his throne and resisted the pull to pass out. Only a few more loose ends to tidy and then he could finally let go...

Once his decoy was in place, then all was set into motion to dispatch the hypocritical priesthood and free the people of Amun's religious tyranny. When the priests moved in to assassinate the man they believed to be their pharaoh, they then set in motion the events that would lead to their own slaughter. The execution was carried out en masse and no priest, not in the capital nor in the far reaching territories of Egypt was to be spared.

When every single under-priest in Thebes was dead, Tutankhamun personally sought out Amun in his temple sanctuary with Lagus, Horemheb and Ay backing him. He found the high priest kneeling before the altar, no doubt offering up thanks to the gods for the victory he believed he had been granted. Tutankhamun took supreme satisfaction in proving the arrogant hypocrite wrong before executing the high priest with his own hands. It was at that point that the adrenaline and fury that had been propelling him forward for the last twenty-four hours abruptly dissipated and Tutankhamun finally collapsed from the stress and grief and infection ravaging his body.

He was carried to his bedchamber by General Horemheb and laid in the same bed where his precious Suhad had drawn her last breath. It seemed fitting to him that he would draw his last breath there as well. The knowledge left Tutankhamun with almost odd sense of inner peace and it was that very peace that compelled him to ask for Ankhesenamun. After the physician confirmed that his injury would indeed prove fatal and Lagus went off to retrieve Ankhesenamun at his pharaoh's request, Tutankhamun was left alone with the man who had raised him.

"It is a good thing that you asked for your sister," Ay commended him softly, "There should be no animosity between you two at such a time as this."

"You grow sentimental in your old age," Tutankhamun murmured in a wry tone, "I almost believe that you truly care for us, Ay...that we have been more than simply a means to an end for you."

"I _do_ care. I always have."

"But we both know there were always other things that you cared for even more..." the young pharaoh discerned astutely, "...And now you will have them. You will see your ambitions realized but it will not be what you imagine. Soon...you will know how it feels to be unable to trust those closest to you, even those whom you dearly love. It is a lonely existence...and you...you will come to know it well."

After Ankhesenamun finally arrived, Ay stood wordlessly and took his leave. The queen favored the vizier with a grateful glance as he passed, assuming he had been the one to convince her brother to call for her, before turning her attention to her ailing brother. Lagus had tried to prepare her for Tutankhamun's altered appearance but Ankhesenamun was still not prepared for how haggard he looked. It was as if he had aged thirty years overnight. His skin had a sickly grayish green cast, his eyes, usually so sharp and keen, appeared sunken and dull. He looked drawn and weak and so very, very tired.

Ankhesenamun climbed the dais steps on stiffened legs and approached the bed with a soft gasp full of grief and remorse. She eased down next to Tutankhamun and swept up his limp, clammy hand in her own. "Thank you for allowing me to be here with you," she whispered gruffly, "I know you haven't forgiven me but I am grateful for the chance to say goodbye."

"I have tried to hate you, but... You are still my blood. You are still my sister."

She swallowed back the sobs that rose in her throat, leaning forward to press her forehead to his. "I am sorry...I can never express to you how very sorry I am for what I have done. Please know that if I could take back this blow that I have dealt you, I would, brother."

"As I would...take back the...blow I dealt you...with Ka..." he confessed between labored breaths, "Only now...do I truly understand...what anguish I caused you...how empty you have felt inside..."

Somehow the fact that he should be expressing his remorse to her as he lay there dying only compounded the guilt and misery that had settled deep into the pit of her stomach. "I am sorry...I am so, so sorry..."

"What have I left for this world, sister?" Tutankhamun mused tiredly, "For what purpose was I here? I was not a builder of great monuments, not a conqueror of great lands. I leave behind no legacy, no trace of my existence at all. I will be forgotten in the sand and time."

"You will _not_ be forgotten, my brother," Ankhesenamun denied fiercely, "You will be remembered as a pharaoh who understood the dignity of other men, a pharaoh who ruled, not for himself, but for his people. That is the measure of a great and lasting king and _that_ is how you, Pharaoh Tutankhamun, my brother...will be remembered."

He mouthed a feeble "thank you," silent tears meandering down his temples with her words. He took a deep breath, noting that the pain in his body had begun to recede and recognizing what that meant. He could literally feel his life ebbing away, like he was beginning to float outside of himself. Tutankhamun shut his eyes with a resigned sigh. "Will you stay with me until the end?"

"Yes..." she whispered, stretching out alongside him as he took his final breath, "...I will."

* * *

 **A/N - So this is it. Epilogue tomorrow and then this puppy is complete. Some of you have asked if I will write another Tuhad fic. The answer is likely so. However, I don't have anything planned at the moment. Right now I am working on an outline for Twisted so that will probably keep me busy for the next couple of months. Thank everyone for reading. You guys are really the best.**

 **Dee**


	29. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Tutankhamun awoke upon the softest bed on which he'd ever had the privilege to sleep.

His first instinct was to turn over onto his side and snuggle deeper into the blankets but something inexplicable kept compelling him to awaken fully. That was the moment he realized that he was not in any pain, physical, emotional or otherwise. There was no unabated throbbing in his leg or suffocating ache in his heart. He felt content and warm and undeniably happy.

Those feelings were so incongruent with the last memory he had that Tutankhamun immediately opened his eyes and slowly took in his surroundings. There was nothing at all familiar to him and yet he didn't feel any fear or alarm at the discovery that he was in a strange place. He lay upon a bed bedecked in white linen and satin and bordered on all sides with a diaphanous, linen canopy, which was secured to the bed posts in order to allow for the cross current which wafted from the window just beyond the bed.

As he began to survey his environment, Tutankhamun saw that he was ensconced in a small hut of some sort that was filled with foliage that seemed to creep in from the outside and curl through the cracks in the wall and slated ceiling. In addition to the greenery, brilliant streams of sunlight flooded in through the large, open windows that were situated in each corner of the hut. Above his head long, skeins of gauzy white linen hung from the rafters and billowed in the gentle, circulating breeze. The air smelled clean and vibrant and was accented with a vague, floral aroma. But the thing that he noticed most acutely was the quiet, the all encompassing peacefulness that pervaded his senses.

He pushed aside the blankets and raised himself up onto his elbows, noting for the first time that he was almost completely nude except for a small scrap of cloth that girded his groin. He also noted that his leg, which had been grotesquely injured the last time he had seen it, now appeared to be completely healed. There was no bruising, swelling or deformity of any kind detectable in the limb, almost as if the bone had never been shattered at all. In fact, Tutankhamun realized slowly, he seemed to bear no scars on his body at all, not even the ones that had long since faded in his childhood. His skin appeared smooth, unmarred...perfect.

But Tutankhamun hardly had time to puzzle over that particular strangeness because his attention was almost immediately diverted to the empty cradle situated at the bedside. He froze, his heart rate gradually accelerating as he surveyed it. Wherever he was there was evidently an infant in the vicinity but whose infant he did not know. Furthermore, he couldn't seem to recall the details of how he'd even come to be in his current location at all. Tutankhamun dragged all ten fingers through his unbound hair, desperately trying to make sense of how he'd managed to arrive at this point when the last thing he remembered with any sort of clarity was _dying_ in his bed.

It was while he was wrestling with himself for understanding that Suhad breezed into the hut, cradling their dozing four month old son in one arm and a basket full of fruit in the other. She stopped short when she found him awake and sitting upright on the bed. She favored him with a glowing smile. "Hello," she greeted cheerfully as if she had not been _dead_ the last time he had seen her, "I was beginning to think that you were going to sleep the remainder of the afternoon. It would have been understandable, I suppose. The journey here is always quite exhausting."

Tutankhamun gaped at her, caught somewhere between abounding joy at seeing her standing there, burgeoning fear that he had possibly gone mad because she _was_ standing there and confusion because, if Suhad _really_ was standing there, then he must be in the after-life and, if so...it wasn't quite how he would have imagined it. Suhad watched each unspoken scenario filter across Tutankhamun's stricken features in rapid fire succession, noting his intensifying alarm with each passing second. She set aside her basket and immediately went to his side, her tone soothing and gentle when she said, "Try not to panic. I know you must have many questions at this time..."

"Am I dead?"

She bit back a smile and shook her head. "No."

"Am I _dying_ then?"

"You already died once," she answered, "But that has been undone now."

"What? What are you talking about? I don't understand what's happening. Is this a dream? Am I dreaming? Am I ill? Having a fit of delirium? Is this some kind of vision from the gods?"

"No, you are not ill and you are not dreaming."

He directed a tentative glance around at their surroundings. "You did say I had died. Is...is this the afterlife then?"

"Not exactly..." she hedged, "It is...and it isn't."

Tutankhamun regarded her with a desperate look, clearly processing nothing she had said to him thus far because he was too busy reeling over her presence. There was truly only one question to which he urgently needed an answer. "Tell me this...are you real?"

In answer to that, Suhad swept up his hand and pressed it to her cheek. "Yes, my love, I am real..."

His features crumpled with a thankful sob as he feathered his fingers across her skin. He skimmed his touch across her eyes and cheeks and lips as if he'd never been acquainted with them before. It was difficult for Suhad to hold back her tears as she witnessed the pure, unguarded joy lighting his beautiful face right then. However, she lost the fight against weeping completely when his eyes finally dropped to the sleeping infant she held in her arms.

"And is this...?"

"Yes," she confirmed in a tear roughened tone, "This is your son, Tutankhamun." He lifted his hand to touch the baby, only to snatch it back at the last second as if he feared doing so would cause the child to evaporate into nothingness. "Calm your heart, my love. _He_ is real as well," Suhad reassured him gently, "You can hold him if you like."

Tutankhamun nodded wordlessly, his body shaking almost uncontrollably as Suhad carefully deposited the baby into his untrained arms. "Support his head..." she directed him softly, "...you'll be fine. He's nearly five months old now and quite solid. He will not break."

"He's so much bigger than I remember him...fatter too, but no less beautiful," he whispered in awe, his heart expanding with love when the baby yawned and stretched before settling comfortably against him once more. The baby felt warm and soft and wonderfully real in his arms. It was a stark contrast with the last memory Tutankhamun had of holding his son, a good one. He soaked in all the changes, taking keen interest in each one.

In addition to being plumper, his indistinct baby features had become more defined. Now, Tutankhamun could definitively see traces of himself and Suhad in the baby. The baby's brow line, eyelashes and mouth were definitely his own, but his nose and ears belonged to his mother. Tutankhamun traced his son's tiny features reverently, noting also that the soft, black waves that had once crowned the baby's head had now been replaced by fat swirls of messy, dark brown curls.

He nuzzled a kiss across his son's unkempt hair, laughing softly when the baby grimaced in his slumber, as if displeased with the disturbance to his rest. "He's perfect, Suhad, incredible..." He glanced up at her with glistening eyes. "What is his name?"

"I call him Theshen," she replied, "I wanted to wait for you but...I could not determine how long it would be before you arrived here and he could not be called 'little one' indefinitely."

Fairly overwhelmed with emotion right then, Tutankhamun whispered the name to himself, practiced it on his tongue before his attention was drawn once more to his son's sleeping face. "Theshen. I like it. It suits him," he whispered as bittersweet tears began to fall, "It's a good name."

Suhad ducked her head down low in an attempt to catch a glimpse of his expression which was hidden behind the falling screen of his long hair. She pushed back the dark waves, smoothing her thumbs tenderly across the wet ridges of his cheeks. "Are you happy, my love?"

"Yes," he answered gruffly, "I'm happy and...overwhelmed... I have so many things running through my mind all at once...so many questions to be answered..."

"I understand. We will take them one at a time."

"But more than answers, Suhad, I want..."

"What...what do you want?"

He leaned forward suddenly and pressed his lips to hers in an ardent kiss. There was no hesitation or awkwardness in either of them with the impulsive flare of intimacy between them. Suhad immediately melted against him, seeming to need the contact as much as he did. When they finally broke away from one another, Tutankhamun rested his forehead against hers with a satisfied sigh. "I wanted to do that," he whispered around the lump of emotion lodged in his throat, "I missed that. I missed you."

"I missed you as well," she whispered back.

They exchanged several more kisses before Tutankhamun gradually pulled away Now that he had affirmed to himself that Suhad was not some specter conjured up in his desperate imagination, his mounting confusion once again came to the fore and asserted itself. "Where are we? What is this place, Suhad?"

She lifted her shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. "I've never been told a name but, I like to call it bliss because that is how it feels," she said, "There's no sickness here, Tutankhamun. No old age or declining health. No death. No war. No hate. No separation among the people. We are all brothers and sisters. Everything is green and lush...there's an abundance of food and land for everyone and no one is oppressed or misguided or subjugated. We are all equal here. We are all free."

"How did you find this place?"

"I didn't. It found me," she told him, "All I know is that I awakened on the banks of the great river and Theshen was lying beside me. When I opened my eyes again, there were people all around me and they tried to explain all that had happened to me because...it had also happened to them. I didn't understand at first why I was here or where 'here' was and I was quite certain everyone around me was mad and then...then I saw my brother and I knew what they were telling me was true."

He blinked at her in disbelief. "Your brother?"

"Yes, he's alive," she confirmed with a giddy smile, "I never thought I would see him again and then there he was...and it was like no time had passed. He's staying with friends tonight. We thought it best not to overwhelm you with too many new faces your first night. But you will meet Kiknata tomorrow as well as the others."

Tutankhamun dragged his free hand down the length of his face, clearly reeling. "Do you have any idea how farfetched all of this sounds?"

"You're in disbelief. I can sympathize. I felt quite the same when I was in your place," Suhad murmured, "But true understanding will come with time and patience. The people here taught me many things and explained my purpose for being here as I will explain to you. They told me that, while I had to die to come to this place, I am not dead now and I need not ever die again."

"What? What does that mean? Are you saying...are you saying that we are with the gods now?"

"Not with the ' _gods'_ exactly but we are here due to the will of a supreme being. We are special to Him. We are here because we've been chosen, Tutankhamun."

"Chosen to do what? Who is this supreme being? How exactly did _I_ come to be here? Why was _I_ chosen?" he asked with some skepticism, "Did the Nile River vomit me up as well?"

"Yes, it did actually," Suhad informed him with wry satisfaction, "That is _exactly_ where you were found. You were lying on the banks, almost as if you had been delivered there...because, in manner of speaking, you had been. That is how all who are chosen arrive here."

"What does it mean to be chosen? Is it because I am Pharaoh that I was given this honor?"

"It is because your heart is pure and honorable and He saw something valuable within you," Suhad replied, "Not everyone who was a king in their former life finds themselves here. In fact, more often than not, men who held positions of great importance prior to coming here are rarely among those chosen. You are a member of a very privileged few, my love."

"And why is that? I don't understand any of this."

"I know you don't," she replied with a smile, "But you will. Give it time. It is too much to process all at once and definitely not in one day. There is much you have to learn first."

"The last thing I remember is the feeling of floating outside of my own body...and then nothing," he said, "When woke up, I wasn't near the Nile River at all. I was here in this bed."

"I know. You were still quite disoriented when we found you. We brought you here to rest."

"We?"

Suhad smiled. "I told you. We're not alone in this place, Tutankhamun."

He frowned to himself, trying diligently to process each new piece of information she revealed to him. Unfortunately, the harder he tried to put together the cryptic bits she had unveiled, the more confused he became. Rather than risking further bafflement and frustration by asking more questions to which he wouldn't grasp the answers, Tutankhamun instead decided to shift the subject altogether. Consequently, he asked the question that had been nagging at him for the last several minutes.

"Do you know what happened to you?" he asked her tentatively, "How _you_ came to be here, Suhad...how you died?"

"Yes. It was your sister's doing. We had a fight. She was the victor and I was not." Tutankhamun averted his eyes in guilty shame though Suhad's tone was devoid of any recrimination when she answered him. "Is that what happened to you as well?"

"No. I did not die at Ankhesenamun's hand," he replied gruffly, "I was injured in the battle with the Mitanni. I think I died the day after you did."

That revelation caused tears of regret to well up in Suhad's eyes. "Oh, Khaten...no. I am deeply saddened to hear that news. You had so many plans for the future. It was my firm hope that you would have a long and prosperous life, that you would fulfill all the greatness that you had set out to accomplish. You died much too young, my love."

"As did you. And I did not deserve to live any longer, not after the way I so thoroughly failed you and our son. I am so sorry. I should not have left you unprotected. I had my suspicions but I never imagined..." He paused to swallow past the bitter lump of tears that burned in his throat. "I should have anticipated that she might go after you directly. I should have stopped her."

Suhad pressed her fingers to his lips to staunch his apologies. "Do not condemn yourself. What's done is done. I have made my relative peace with your sister's actions long ago. In an odd way, I can even understand what might have driven her to do what she did. My feelings where she is concerned are complicated, but...I don't hate her...and I don't hate _you_ , if that is your fear." Tutankhamun regarded her with an astonished expression. "Neither does Ka."

He surveyed her with dubious eyes, straight, dark brows drawn together in a deep frown. "Ka? Why do you speak of Ka right now?"

"Because he is here," Suhad informed him gently, "He was chosen as well."

"Wait! Stop a moment!" he cried, struggling to process what she was telling him, "You've spoken to him? You've _seen_ him? He's alive?"

"Yes. He is alive. He was among the first to welcome me to this place although he did not know who I was at the time. However, I knew him and I wasn't very pleasant in the beginning. It took me quite some time to trust him. Thankfully, he persevered in his overtures for peace and amity and he has become a good and valued friend to me since."

"I once thought that as well," Tutankhamun said brusquely, "That was a mistake."

"He is not the same man you remember, Khaten, and he has many regrets, most especially about _you_. He wants to see you but he is afraid that you will not want to see him."

"No! I cannot..." he protested, wildly shaking his head, "It's...it is too much. I...I don't think I'm ready."

"It's fine. There will be time for that later," Suhad soothed him, "You still have much to process and you are not yet at a point where you can hear it all. Tomorrow, then we will begin. Kiknata will be here to help with the baby and then I will provide you with all the explanations you seek. But tonight, I want you to eat and enjoy a proper night's rest."

"I couldn't possibly sleep at all." He dragged his finger over the plump curve of his son's cheek. "I'm afraid this will all be gone when I wake. I'm half convinced I've gone mad or else...you have."

"It is neither," she laughed, "You are not mad. You are not dreaming. This is real. _We_ are real."

"Will you be here with me tonight?" he asked anxiously, "Will you stay and lie down with me? I won't believe it unless you do."

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised him, "Never again."

After pulling on the clothing Suhad had generously provided for him, Tutankhamun watched her every movement with keen interest for the remainder of the evening. He studied her closely as she prepared the evening meal, tidied up their simple surroundings and bathed their wiggling son. He could hardly believe he was looking at her at all and yet, her mannerisms were reminiscent of everything he remembered about her...the inflection of her words, the way she glared at him when she was annoyed, the unrestrained joy of her laughter. It was _really_ her. They were _really_ together again and not in some murkily imagined afterlife but sharing a real life in a real home with a real family.

He was so intent in his scrutiny, so overwhelmed by her presence that Suhad began to grow self-conscious under his steady and intense perusal. She finally threw up her hands in exasperation. "Are you truly planning to do this the entire night?" she cried.

"Do what?"

"Watch me as though you expect a horn to sprout forth from my forehead at any given moment?"

"Do you know what I thought about the entire time I was away in battle?" Tutankhamun wondered aloud in a quiet tone. Suhad shook her head, mildly annoyed. "I thought about you. Every second of every day that we were apart, I thought about coming home to you, Suhad...you and our son. It was all that I wanted, all I could imagine. And when I finally _did_ come home, it was to find that you both had been taken from me. So yes, to answer your question, I am _absolutely_ going to watch you all night because I never imagined I would have the opportunity to do so again."

Her exasperation with him immediately forgotten, Suhad hopped up to kiss him because it was impossible not to do so right then. Afterwards, she made no further complaints about Tutankhamun's avid interest and, to his credit, he tried to be a little less obvious about his admiration. However, when the time came for Suhad to nurse Theshen before putting him down for bed, she found herself growing a bit skittish once more.

She cleared her throat nervously, trying to remain nonchalant as Tutankhamun's eyes widened when she began to bare her breast in preparation to feed their son. "I...I need to nurse him," she stammered in explanation, acutely aware of the moment the baby latched onto her nipple because Tutankhamun did not look away at all. Instead, he watched Theshen suckle with an expression suspended somewhere between awe and envy.

"Does that cause you discomfort when he does that?"

"No. Not anymore. In the beginning, however, it was learning process for both of us."

Tutankhamun struggled to keep his thoughts neutral and attempted to distract himself by leaning out the window to count the stars while Suhad finished feeding the baby. Unfortunately, his perusal of the night sky was a blind one because all he could think about was Suhad's naked skin. He didn't understand why watching her that way was affecting him so. After all, she was nourishing their child. It as a pure and sacred act, remarkable and yet unremarkable at the same time. Still, it stirred something primal within him and the thoughts he was having about her right then were neither sacred nor pure.

He was forcefully reminded of how long it had been since he and Suhad had known one another intimately. It felt like it had been an eternity. He knew he missed that part of their relationship and wanted to resume it but he wasn't altogether certain how Suhad felt about the matter. In many ways, it was as if no time had passed between them at all whereas, in others, it was almost as if they were starting anew.

The resulting awkwardness made no difference to his starved body, however. Once his desire for Suhad began to make itself manifest, Tutankhamun had a difficult time stamping it back down. By the time he finished murmuring his goodnights to Theshen and he and Suhad climbed into bed together, the last thing on his mind was sleep.

With his heart thumping in anticipation, Tutankhamun tentatively coaxed Suhad back into the circle of his arms. He relaxed only when she came without resistance, scooting herself against his body so that they were spooned together. He was quite sure that she was intensely cognizant of how much he wanted her right then. His need for her was rather prominent between them. Despite that, Tutankhamun dropped a tender kiss to the bare skin of her shoulder that was full of earnest entreaty. Suhad answered by circling her hips against him suggestively before drawing his hand around her to place his palm directly over her breast. For Tutankhamun, that gesture was answer enough.

Sometime later after they had finished making love and they lay heart to heart with limbs intertwined, Tutankhamun lifted his head to peer over the top of Theshen's cradle. He half expected to find a very awake and very disgruntled baby. Instead, he was surprised to discover that Theshen had somehow continued to slumber through all the noise he and Suhad had made, which simultaneously amused and mortified him.

"Don't worry," Suhad yawned, "Your son can sleep through a marching battalion. He won't wake again until his belly demands it."

"Dare I ask how you made that particular discovery?" Tutankhamun murmured dryly.

"Certainly not _this_ way," she giggled.

Tutankhamun grunted a laugh and snuggled back against her with a contented sigh. "I can't believe that I will actually have the privilege of watching him grow into manhood..." he marveled, "...that he _will_ become a man at all..."

"So you're not disappointed?" Suhad asked.

He raised his head to peer down at her in bewilderment. "Why would I be disappointed?"

She tipped back her head to regard him. "Because you were not raised up as a god as you always believed you would be."

"And what would I possibly do as a god?" he posited with a dismissive shrug, "Could I enjoy the sound of my son's laughter? Could I lie next to you? Could I hold you like this? I'd much rather be here with you as I am now." He hitched his chin in the direction of their sleeping son. "And with him."

"Even if that means that you are no longer a Pharaoh either?"

"Have I ever given you the impression that was a title for which I had aspired or had even wanted?" Tutankhamun asked, " _You_ are the only thing that I have ever truly wanted, Suhad. You and our son. That is all I need."

Suhad slipped her arm around his waist and settled herself against his chest, tucking her head beneath his chin. "We can have more children, you know? You don't have to resign yourself to only one."

His answering chuckle at her implied suggestion rumbled against her cheek. "I think perhaps I should get used to the one first," he laughed before adding after a pensive beat of silence, "Though the idea of a daughter is rather agreeable."

"Yes..." Suhad agreed as she slipped off into sleep, "...I think so as well."

 **The End**


End file.
